A Garden in Her Cups. final draft - pearl

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04 University of Plymouth Research Theses 01 Research Theses Main Collection

2012

A GARDEN IN HER CUPS:

BOTANICAL MEDICINES OF THE

ANGLO-AMERICAN HOME, C.1580

1800

Gushurst-Moore, Bruna

http://hdl.handle.net/10026.1/1253

University of Plymouth

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A GARDEN IN HER CUPS: BOTANICAL MEDICINES OF THE ANGLO-AMERICAN HOME, C.1580 – 1800

BRUNA GUSHURST-MOORE PLYMOUTH UNIVERSITY

THESIS SUBMITTED FOR THE DEGREE DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

NOVEMBER, 2012

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SHORT ABSTRACT

Ph.D THESIS NOVEMBER, 2012


BOTANICAL MEDICINES OF THE ANGLO-AMERICAN HOME, C.1 580 – 18001


This thesis focuses on the domestic use of plant-based medicines within Early Modern English and Colonial American households, and establishes the defining framework of a domestic botanical culture. It reconstructs the relationship between domestic, popular, and learned medical cultures to reveal the breadth of that practice, demonstrating the unique characteristics of the domestic culture which are underpinned by a shared canon of herbs and a high degree of flexible adaptability by individual practitioners. The botanicals (medicinal plants and the remedies made from them) are themselves analysed through the genres of household receipt book manuscripts, private letters, and journals, as well as almanacs, vernacular medical books, travel writing and settler texts in order to explore more fully and expand our understanding of the domestic culture within a broad social setting. Oral, scribal, and print networks are reconstructed in order to demonstrate that domestic medical practitioners shared a distinctive and influential medical construct, commonly portrayed by current scholarship as a mere reflection of popular and learned practices. Close engagement with both Early Modern English and Colonial women’s receipt books in particular reveals a commonality of practice based upon a shared materia medica which was sensitive and responsive to individual adaptation. Old and new world herbs are examined as a means of providing ingress into this shared and communal domestic practice, as well as to highlight the prevalence and importance of household individualization. The clear commonality of plants in trans-Atlantic domestic use demonstrates a continuous, shared, inherited practice which ends only with eighteenth-century Colonial inclusion of indigenous plants not found in the shared canon. Contemporary views of Early Modern and Colonial domestic medical practice are explored in order to argue that far from simply reflecting learned medical thinking and practice, domestic knowledge and use of botanical medicines was uniquely practical, communal, and flexible in its administration and expression.

1 Papers arising from this dissertation have been presented at the Burthen of the Mortal Body conference, Exeter University, September 2010; the Sick of Being Sick conference, Oxford University, September 2011; and the Herbal History Seminary Session, NIMH, March 2012.

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LONG ABSTRACT

Ph.D THESIS NOVEMBER 2012


BOTANICAL MEDICINES OF THE ANGLO-AMERICAN HOME, C.1 580 – 1800


This thesis focuses on the domestic use of plant-based medicines within Early Modern English and Colonial American households, establishing the defining framework of a domestic botanical culture by examining both the contexts in which these medicines were employed, as well as the plants themselves. It reconstructs the relationship between domestic, popular, and learned medical cultures to reveal the breadth of that practice, demonstrating the unique characteristics of the domestic culture which are underpinned by a shared canon of herbs and a high degree of flexible adaptability by individual practitioners. The thesis further considers how domestic practices and knowledge were communicated and held, looking at oral, scribal, and print cultures and their impact on transmission routes, as well as individual plants in common use across the Anglo-American domestic spectrum which were representative of household use and practice. The thesis is less interested in the details of individual practitioners’ lives than in the socio-culturally structured nature of Anglo-Colonial domestic medical practice, and as such it turns to a range of sources, including household receipt book manuscripts, private letters, and journals, almanacs, vernacular medical books, travel writing, and settler texts, in order to explore more fully, and expand our understanding of, the domestic culture within a broad social setting. A close engagement with Early Modern English and Colonial American women’s receipt books reveals a commonality of practice based upon a shared materia medica which was sensitive and responsive to individual adaptation, while reference to popular printed texts aimed at a domestic audience highlights the social pervasiveness and wider cultural placing of that practice.

A broad geographical context of ‘England and Empire’, including the

writing and practice of householders from both sides of the Atlantic, has been adopted as a means of assessing the widespread Anglo-American cultural application of domestic medicine throughout the period. Along similar lines, the thesis examines material from the late-sixteenth through to the eighteenth-century as this period contains the whole of the domestic culture under study here. This strategy has a twofold aim: first, to establish the common practice employed by Anglo-American householders, and secondly, to identify changes in that practice as they emerged in the eighteenth-century. Either group of primary sources, Early Modern English, and Colonial American, has been largely investigated as autonomous sets, for example, scholars considering

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domestic English sources of botanical knowledge, particularly the receipt books, have largely done so in the context of extended English social and gender histories, while scholarly examination of American sources, particularly of cookbooks, has drawn useful comparisons between the material and cultural histories of the products themselves with the Colonial social and cultural context employing them.2 A relatively few number of scholars have considered the broader ‘expanded Britain’ connection, as seen for example, in Londa Scheibinger and Claudia Swan’s consideration of the Anglo-American, expanded British Empire, aspect of domestic medicine and botany in the West Indies .3 The thesis develops this last approach to the domestic sources on the premise that the schism between Anglo and Colonial American sources and practices prior to the eighteenth-century is an artificial one which does not serve the whole of the period under study well. Indeed, it is only in the mid- to late-

2 Scholarship concerned with English sources include Raymond A. Anselment, The Remembrances of Elizabeth Freke, 1671-1714, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001); Margaret J.M. Ezell, 'Domestic Papers: Manuscript Culture and Early Modern Women's Life Writing' in Genre and women's life writing in early modern England, Julie A. Eckerle & Michelle M. Dowd, eds. (Aldershot: Ashgate 2007), pp.33-48; Catherine Field, "'Many hands hands”: Writing the Self in Early Modern Women's Recipe Books’ in Genre and women's life writing in early modern England, Julie A. Eckerle & Michelle M Dowd, eds. (Aldershot: Ashgate Publishing, 2007); Mary Fissell, ed., the Bulletin of History of Medicine special issue, ’Women, Health, and Healing in Early Modern Europe’, Vol. 82 (2008) pp.1-17; Mary Fissell,’Readers, text & contexts: Vernacular medical works in early modern England‘ in The Popularization of Medicine, 1650-1850, Roy Porter, ed. (London: Routledge, 1992), pp. 72-96; Elaine Leong and Sara Pennell, ‘Recipe Collections and the Currency of Medical Knowledge in the Early Modern “Medical Marketplace”’ in The Medical Marketplace and Its Colonies c. 1450-c 1850, M. Jenner and P. Wallis, eds. (place: Palgrave Macmillian, 2007), pp. 133-52, Elaine Leong, ’Making Medicines in the Early Modern Household‘, Bulletin History of Medicine, 82 (2008), 145-68; Margaret Pelling, ‘The Women of the Family? Speculations around Early Modern British Physicians’, Social History of Medicine, Vol. 7, No. 3 (1995), 383 – 401; Sara Pennell, ’Pots and Pans History: The Material Culture of the Kitchen in Early Modern England‘, Journal of Design History, Vol.11, No.3 (1998), 201 -16; Sara Pennell, ‘Perfecting Practice? Women Manuscript Recipes’, in Early Modern Women’s Manuscripts Writing: selected papers from the Trinity/Trent Colloquium, Victoria Elizabeth Burke and Jonathan Gibson eds., (Place: Ashgate Publishing, 2004) pp.237-58; Linda Pollock, With Faith in Physic, The life of a Tudor Gentlewoman: Lady Grace Mildmay 1552-1620 (London; Collins and Brown, 1993). Scholarship which has focused largely on American sources include Adelaide L. Fries, ed., Records of the Moravians in North Carolina. Vols.1-6 (Raleigh: North Carolina Division of Archives and History, 1970); Ann Leighton, Early American Gardens: ‘For Meate or Medicine’ (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1986); Sarah Hand Meacham, Every Home a Distillery: Alcohol, Gender, and Technology in the Colonial Chesapeake (Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 2009); Kay K Moss, Southern Folk Medicine, 1750-1820 (Place: University of South Carolina Press, 1999); Charles E. Rosenberg, Right Living: An Anglo-American Tradition of Self-Help Medicine and Hygiene (Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 2003); Julia Cherry Spruill, Women’s Life and Work in the Southern Colonies (New York: Norton & Company, 1998); Judith Sumner, American Household Botany: A History of Useful Plants, 1620-1900 (Oregon: Timber Press, 2004); Mary Tolford Wilson, ’Amelia Simmons Fills a Need: American Cooker, 1796’, The William and Mary Quarterly, Third Series, Vol.14, No 1 (Jan.1957), 16-30; Marvin R. Zahniser, ed., The Letterbook of Eliza Lucas Pinckney: Intriguing Letters by One of Colonial America's Most Accomplished Women, Eliza Lucas Pinckney (Columbia, SC: Univ of South Carolina Press, 1972). 3 Londa Scheibinger and Claudia Swan, eds., Colonial Botany: Science, Commerce, and Politics in the Early Modern World (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2007); Londa Scheibinger, ’Scientific Exchange in the Eighteenth-Century Atlantic World‘, in Soundings in Atlantic history: latent structures and intellectual currents, 1500-1830 ed. Bernard Bailyn (Harvard: Harvard University Press. 2009).

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eighteenth-century that we begin to see significant divergence and differentiation in use of botanicals, and the majority of extant receipt books with clear American provenance date from this later period, as earlier representatives reflect the authors’ self-perception as English women and men. The thesis’ focus on the inherited English materia medica and domestic medicines used in Anglo-American households on either side of the Atlantic, demonstrates that the onset of Colonial settlement domestic practice in the American colonies was effectively Early Modern English practice, and is a unique contribution to this growing body of trans-Atlantic scholarship.

In attempting to capture a ‘broad picture’ view of botanical medicines

across this geographical and chronological landscape, while simultaneously placing the plants within a human context and framework, the thesis embraces a number of different methodologies, including approaches borrowed from sociology, anthropology, and theories of material culture. It looks at Early Modern and Colonial narratives, Atlantic cultural theory, gender studies concerned with women’s manuscript writing as well as women’s medical knowledge and practice, and transmission theories, particularly as they relate to the reclamation of non-elite social histories. The use of oral, scribal, and print cultures informs the cultural field of study in the first three Chapters, while this field is subsequently expanded by the introduction of Atlantic theory in Chapter Four, and is then populated with plants, preparations, and people’s perceptions of them in Chapters Five and Six.

Chapter One of the thesis first addresses the communal basis of

domestic botanical knowledge and prescribing, exploring its probable oral roots, and outlining its composite, communal nature in terms of bricolage and a ‘little’ medical tradition. Chapter Two consults scribal expression of the domestic culture in receipt books and personal correspondence, examining how the communal materia medica was adapted and finessed by individual domestic authors. Chapter Three examines the domestic practice alongside popular and printed sources of botanical information as a means of establishing the extent to which dialogue between cultures impacted upon the unique character of the domestic practice. Chapter Four considers the domestic botanical culture as a trans-Atlantic entity, looking at published lists of plants in order to establish the basic shared canon of herbs in domestic employ. Chapter Five examines four old world botanical case studies in depth - poppy, rose, cinnamon, and elder - as a means of establishing the many points of the shared communal practice. Chapter Six examines five new world botanical case studies in depth - lignum vitae, sassafras, sarsaparilla, tobacco, and cinchona - in order to establish those North American botanicals in common use across the shared Anglo-American canon. It then considers the late addition of a much wider, and more varied list of indigenous plants into Colonial recipes suggestive of wider, social divergence between the cultures.

In examining both old and new world herbs in the writings of domestic

authors and in the wealth of sources which those authors accessed, the thesis establishes a shared, communal Anglo-American domestic use and knowledge of botanical medicines, as well as highlighting the prevalence and importance of household individualization. The clear commonality of plants and their domestic

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employment in trans-Atlantic households defines a continuous, inherited Early Modern English practice which ends only with eighteenth-century Colonial inclusion of indigenous plants not found in the shared canon. Far from simply reflecting learned medical thinking and practice, this domestic knowledge and use of botanical medicines was uniquely practical, communal, and flexible in its administration and expression. It drew on a wealth of sources and practices, rooted in oral culture, largely expressed in scribal form, and reflective of the needs and resources of those individuals and communities employing it.

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I have accumulated a wealth of debts over the course of this doctorate. The thesis was entirely funded by a Plymouth University studentship, and the University has also been generous in providing supportive travel and research grants. James Daybell has been an exemplary supervisor for both my MA (Research), and PhD. His keen eye, enthusiasm, curiosity, patience, and support have been instrumental in helping me to place my herbal passion within an Early Modern and Colonial historical context. I am also indebted to Kevin Jeffrys and Nandini Chatterjee for their feedback, which has resulted in a much tighter, more intelligent script, as well as Jenny Graham for advice on the value of material and narrative histories and Richard Huzzey for insight into trans-Atlantic cultural theories. Many thanks to Gordon Pearce, for his offer to read and comment on the thesis, and to my good friend and colleague, Dr Julia Green, whose infectious interest in academic research across disciplines, and generosity in reading and commenting on this work, have been greatly appreciated. I am especially thankful to my husband, André Gushurst-Moore, and my mother, Dr Barbara Hodkin, for wading through the entirety of this thesis and providing sage grammatical advice. I am indebted to numerous archivists and librarians on both sides of the Atlantic, but special thanks go out to those individuals without whose support this thesis would not have been viable, including Tracy Potter at the Massachusetts Historical Society; John Pollack at the University of Pennsylvania (Rare book & Manuscript Library); Edward Gaynor at the University of Virginia (Albert and Shirley Small Special collections library); Crystal Smith at the National Library of Medicine (History of Medicine Division); Georgianna Ziegler at the Folger Shakespeare Library; Kyle Hovious at the Hodges Library (Special Collections), University of Tennessee; Karen Schoenewaldt at the Rosenbach Museum & Library; and Edwin C. Schroeder at the Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library. Finally, thanks to my whole family for putting up with my researching and writing demands over the last three years, particularly to my children, Alexandra, Christian, and Josephine, for their good humour and support.

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AUTHOR'S DECLARATION At no time during the registration for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy has the author been registered for any other University award without prior agreement of the Graduate Committee. This study was financed by a University of Plymouth studentship. Grants and Awards:

01.2013 Digital Humanities Institute, Maryland, Student Scholarship 02.2012 City of Bristol College eLearning Innovation Fund 03.2011 Plymouth University Research award 07.2010 CEPPL CPD research award 09.2009 PhD studentship, University of Plymouth 08.2009 Beresford PhD Scholarship, University of Leeds (declined) 02.2009 HELP- cetl CPC award holder grant A programme of advanced study was undertaken, which included a course in Early Modern palaeography in the second year of the PhD. Relevant seminars and conferences were regularly attended at which work was often presented; external institutions were visited for consultation purposes. Conference papers delivered: Mar.10.12 Research Paper: ‘Anglo-American Medicines’, Herbal History

Seminar Session, NIMH (Bradford-on-Avon). Sept.15.11 Research Paper: ‘Speaking of Medicines’, Sick of Being Sick

conference, Oxford University. Aug.23.10 Research Paper: ‘Oh Lark, the Laudanum Does Run Low’ paper

presentation, Burthen of the Mortal Body conference, University of Exeter.

Sept.18.09 Research Paper: ‘Reading Seeds: from Flora to Florilegium.

Botanicals in Receipt books 1530 – 1700’. CELL conference. footprints in the butter: looking for the elephant in the archives.

Sept.3.09 Research Paper: ‘Early Modern Household Medicine: Tracing the

Use of Botanicals in Domestic & Irregular Practice’. OII (Oxford Internet Institute) digital & e-history workshop and conference.

Apr.14.09 Research Poster: ‘Healing Space within the Domestic Realm’.

MIRC conference. Living with the past - histories, heritage & the interior.

Feb.21.09 Research Paper; ‘Distilling Health. Domestic Medicine in the

Manor House’, VAHS conference. Medicine and Charity.

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Workshop, Seminars and Conferences Attended:

06.2012 Transatlantic Exchanges Forum: Exchange and Expertise, University of

Plymouth (working seminar to put together a joint bid for AHRC grant) 04.2011 AAHM (American Association of the History of Medicine), Baltimore 04.2011 ‘Cultures of Correspondence’, University of Plymouth 07.2011 BMJ Medical Humanities conference, Plymouth 05.2010 ‘On Balance’ Conference, Centre for Medical History, Exeter University 05.2009 MIRC. Living in the Past: Histories, Heritage and the Interior 04.2009 TASI: Finding Free-to-Use Images Online 04.2009 AAH. Crossings: Art, Medicine, & Visual Culture 03.2009 TASI: Building a Departmental Image Collection 03.2009 TASI: Scanning with the CLA Licence 12.2008 Classical Collections and British Country houses and Gardens

Word count of main body of thesis: 81,326.

Signed Date

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CONTENTS

Note on conventions 17 Abbreviations 18 Introduction 20 Methodology 28 Approaches to domestic medical sources and practice 32 Primary Sources, Receipt Books 41 Personal Letters & Journals 43 Probate Inventories 45 Printed Texts 45 CHAPTERS 1 Communal Practices: Domestic Medicine & Oral Culture 54

Learned and Lay Practices: Medical Cultures of the Home 74 Oral in Scribal Cultures 81

2 Scribal Cultures: Individualization of Communal Practice 84 Receipt Books 89 Communities & Communal Knowledge in Domestic Manuscripts 98 Personal Authority 107 Scribal in Print Cultures: Colonial Sources 121

3 Popular Culture & Print 130

Learned Theory & Literacy in the Domestic Setting 141 Almanacs 147 Herbals 156 Vernacular Medical & Settler Texts 159 Learned, Popular, & Domestic Cultures 163 Complexities of Botanical Cultures 168

4 Atlantic Cultures 173

Botanicals & Nomenclature – Issues of Identification 177 Atlantic and Anglo-American Cultures 183 Inventoried Evidence of Domestic Botanical Culture 188 Of Plants and Plant Lists 200 Aquas and the Communal Practice 213

5 Inherited Cultures: Old World Botanicals: 224

The European Canon: Old World Herbs & New World Demands 225

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Of Opium & Poppies, Papaver spp. 232 Of Flowers 247 Rose, Rosa spp. 252 Of Spices 258 Cinnamon, Cinnamomum tamala, et species 267 Of Fruit: Sambucus species 271

6 Diverging Culture: New World Botanicals 279

Guaiacum, Guaiacum officinale 286 Sassafras, Sassafras albidium 297 Sarsaparilla, Smilax regelii 306 Tobacco, Nicotiana spp. 311 Jesuit’s Bark, Cinchona spp. 318 The Beginnings of New Practices 324

Conclusion 330 Analysing Methodologies 338 Glossary 344 Appendices 347 Bibliography 349

Manuscript Sources 349 Printed Primary Sources 359 Printed Secondary Sources 364 Unpublished Papers and Thesis 372

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NOTE ON CONVENTIONS

The original spelling of documents has been retained. Dates in quotations reflect the author’s denotation, rather than Old or New Style; those in the footnotes reflect New Style with year beginnings reflecting a 1st of January start. Manuscript pages follow standard foliation citation (fol.Nor/v following the archive call number) where possible, and individual authors’ pagination where this exists and the manuscripts are unfoliated, with p.No following the author/title. Manuscript references are italicized only where they have been named by the author as in Her Booke, whereas descriptive archival terms such as ‘receipt book’ are not.

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ABBREVIATIONS

AAS American Antiquarian Society, Philadelphia, PA

APS American Philosophical Society, Philadelphia, PA

AMCA Archives of the Moravian Church in America, Winston-Salem, NC

Bod.L. Bodleian Library, Oxford

BL British Library

Add. Additional manuscripts Eg. Egerton manuscripts Sl. Sloane manuscripts

CP The College of Physicians, Philadelphia, PA

CWA Colonial Williamsburg Archives, Williamsburg, VA

DRO Derbyshire Record Office, Matlock, Derbyshire

FSL Folger Shakespeare Library, Washington D.C.

FHL Friends Historical Library of Swarthmore College, Swarthmore, PA

HSP Historical Society of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, PA

LPL Lambeth Palace Library, London

LC Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

MHL Marston Hall Library, Walderton, West Sussex

MHS Massachusetts Historical Society, Boston, MA

NLS National Library of Scotland, Edinburgh

NRO Northampton Record Office, Northampton

NCSA North Carolina State Archives, Raleigh, NC

PCA Plymouth Colony Archive Project, University of Illinois, Urbana, IL

SML Sterling Memorial Library Manuscript Archives, New Haven, CT

SCHS South Carolina Historical Society, Charleston, NC

SHC Southern Historical Collection, University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, NC

UP University of Pennsylvania Rare Books & Manuscripts Library, Philadelphia, PA

UT University of Tennessee Special Collections, Knoxville, TS

WL Wellcome Library Manuscript Collection, London

Win Winterthur Library, Winterthur, DE

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Introduction

This thesis examines trans-Atlantic Anglo-American botanical medicines

in domestic use from 1550 to 1800.4 From the end of the sixteenth-century

through to the eighteenth, Anglo-American women, and occasionally men,

regularly wrote medical recipes and instructions in domestic receipt books and

personal correspondence, illustrating a common domestic medical practice

based on the production and dispensation of medicines to kin and community.5

The shared materia medica, that list of medicines commonly used in the

majority of Anglo-American households, demonstrates a continuity of practice,

both between English and American domiciles, and until the second half of the

eighteenth-century. A great flexibility and adaptability of practice between

individuals and individual households is also to be found in the variations of

preparation and administration of these shared botanicals. This combination of

clear communal practice with a high degree of individualization strongly

suggests a discrete domestic practice that was largely separate from learned

practices of the period and was based on the use of individual botanical

preparations being anecdotal and empirical, rather than theoretical, in nature.

By the mid-eighteenth-century, there was a marked differentiation in English

and American lists of those plants included in domestic materia medica, a result

of larger political and cultural realities that shaped individual and communal

4 Botanical medicines are those medicines made up of plant material, whether using single plants, or more complex combinations. 5 Domestic receipt books consisted of hand written collections of recipes, both medicinal and culinary, which were often ordered, and typically bound. Many receipt book manuscripts show evidence of many hands, suggesting a multiplicity of authorship, reflecting a wealth of shared knowledge. They are considered in greater depth in Chapter 2.

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practice. In tracing the original, common Anglo-American culture, and the

beginnings of its later American offshoot, the thesis reclaims knowledge and

practice surrounding historical botanical medicines, and in so doing,

reconstructs a piece of everyday Early Modern and Colonial life.

This thesis focuses on the plants themselves as a means of gaining

ingress into the larger domestic lay practice. It explores what plants were used,

in what manner, and what this indicates about Early Modern English and

Colonial American medicine and medical knowledge, both within the home and

within the larger community. It also explores the adaptability of this body of

herbs, examining in some depth shared old and new world plants, considering

emerging differentiation in plant use, and what implications each holds for the

wider social setting in which these plants were employed. The thesis turns

primarily to those sources written by lay authors in the home, particularly receipt

books, in order to establish the list of plants used. It also examines a range of

popular and vernacular texts where these further our understanding of what

herbs were considered appropriate, and necessary, for successful domestic

provisioning. The thesis therefore examines the plants and plant medicines and

the evidence relating to them as a means of expanding our understanding of

domestic medical practice. It first considers the ways and means by which

knowledge of medicinal plants was communicated, translated, and received, by

household practitioners, paying close attention to oral, scribal, print and popular

cultures; it then considers differences between old and new world demands and

resources, and the opportunities provided by trans-Atlantic cultures; and finally,

it examines how the Early Modern English domestic materia medica adaptated

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and evolved in Colonial households in the eighteenth-century. In turn, this plant-

based approach to the material allows the thesis to build a defining framework

for what it terms Anglo-American ‘domestic botanical cultures’.

The terms ‘botanicals’, ‘herbal medicines’, and ‘botanical medicines’ all

hold an approximate meaning, and are used interchangeably throughout this

work. The term ‘botanical medicinal knowledge’ refers specifically to those

herbal medical preparations written down in domestic recipe, or ‘receipt’, books

throughout the Early Modern period. Equally, as the thesis proposes that

domestic botanical medicines and domestic medical practice are largely

synonymous, as household practitioners typically eschewed medical theory,

instead equating medicines with remedial treatment, they are typically treated

as interchangeable entities except where otherwise noted.6 As the reach of the

thesis spans over two centuries and stretches across the Atlantic, source

materials and evidence are organised in such a way as to both illustrate

continuity where it exists, and highlight variations where they occur. The terms

‘Anglo-American’, ‘trans-Atlantic’, and ‘Early Modern English and Colonial

American’ all refer to households of the expanded, trans-Atlantic, British empire.

Unless otherwise stated, particularly as occurs in Chapters four and six, it is the

shared, inherited, Early Modern English practice which is referred to when

speaking of a ‘domestic botanical culture’. Where the thesis is concerned with

establishing continuity of practice across the chronological span of the culture,

sources are typically consulted by progressive date. Sources providing

6 There are instances of individual domestic authors who clearly do not fit this simple ‘medicines constitute medical practice’ mould, such as Lady Grace Mildmay and Elizabeth Freke, both of whom have engendered a wealth of scholarly attention. These two authors in particular are also consulted by the thesis in order to provide as well-rounded a picture of the whole of domestic provisioning as possible.

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evidence of trans-Atlantic practices, however, as in Chapters four through six,

have typically been organized by location of authorship rather than strictly, or

solely, along chronological lines, although both the year and the place of origin

are noted alongside plants and recipes throughout.

The parameters delineating this study were chosen in order to

accommodate the nature of the inquiry, allowing for fuller definitions, tracing,

and consideration of the nature and role of domestic medicines and domestic

medical provision in common use within the Anglo-American domestic sphere.

As a result, the thesis has purposefully included manuscript evidence from the

American colonies alongside those of English authors as a means of assessing

the widespread Anglo-American cultural application of domestic medicine

throughout the period. This strategy has three aims: first to consider more fully

and flesh out the ‘greater British’ domestic knowledge and use of botanical

medicines, and secondly, to examine what new medicines found their way into

the European canon, with a consideration of how English materia medica

changed, or not, as a result of this influx of new world flora. The third area of

focus examines the retransmission of this British household use of indigenous

American plants back to the American colonies, considering how trans-Atlantic

practices adopted, and adapted, these botanicals by the end of the eighteenth-

century. It is by combining social history methods relative to chronology and

geography in a cultural analysis of domestic plant-based medicines that a

specific domestic practice is established.

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This thesis examines a domestic botanical culture from within a

historiographical field largely prefaced by scholarship focused on female

authors, their practice, and their receipt books. Early Modern domestic

medicine in particular has received a good deal of considered attention by

recent scholarship, particularly as it relates to individual practitioners, their

manuscript receipt books, and the social context in which they practised.7

Receipt books as a repository and evidence of cultural historical practices often,

in themselves, offer little information pertaining to provenance, as the authors’

background and social context are often frustratingly difficult to date, with many

examples remaining anonymous, and still others clearly the product of multiple,

also often anonymous, compilers. Indeed, those works which have been studied

in the greatest depth, such as Elizabeth Freke’s papers or Martha Washington’s

Booke of Sweetmeats, come with an unusual amount of provenance and

supportive material. This perhaps skews our idea of who typically employed

botanicals in the home, or who often authored domestic receipt books, with an

unfair weighting of scholarship devoted to those works produced by individuals 7 Raymond A. Anselment, The Remembrances of Elizabeth Freke, 1671-1714, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001); Margaret J.M. Ezell, 'Domestic Papers: Manuscript Culture and Early Modern Women's Life Writing' in Genre and women's life writing in early modern England, Julie A. Eckerle & Michelle M. Dowd, eds. (Aldershot: Ashgate 2007), pp.33-48; Catherine Field, "'Many hands hands”: Writing the Self in Early Modern Women's Recipe Books’ in Genre and women's life writing in early modern England, Julie A. Eckerle & Michelle M Dowd, eds. (Aldershot: Ashgate Publishing, 2007); Mary Fissell, ed., the Bulletin of History of Medicine special issue, ’Women, Health, and Healing in Early Modern Europe’, Vol. 82 (2008) pp.1-17; Mary Fissell,’Readers, text & contexts: Vernacular medical works in early modern England‘ in The Popularization of Medicine, 1650-1850, Roy Porter, ed. (London: Routledge, 1992), pp. 72-96; Elaine Leong and Sara Pennell, ‘Recipe Collections and the Currency of Medical Knowledge in the Early Modern “Medical Marketplace”’ in The Medical Marketplace and Its Colonies c. 1450-c 1850, M. Jenner and P. Wallis, eds. (place: Palgrave Macmillian, 2007), pp. 133-52, Elaine Leong, ’Making Medicines in the Early Modern Household‘, Bulletin History of Medicine, 82 (2008), 145-68; Margaret Pelling, ‘The Women of the Family? Speculations around Early Modern British Physicians’, Social History of Medicine, Vol. 7, No. 3 (1995), 383 – 401; Sara Pennell, ’Pots and Pans History: The Material Culture of the Kitchen in Early Modern England‘, Journal of Design History, Vol.11, No.3 (1998), 201 -16; Sara Pennell, ‘Perfecting Practice? Women Manuscript Recipes’, in Early Modern Women’s Manuscripts Writing: selected papers from the Trinity/Trent Colloquium, Victoria Elizabeth Burke and Jonathan Gibson eds., (Place: Ashgate Publishing, 2004) pp.237-58; Linda Pollock, With Faith in Physic, The life of a Tudor Gentlewoman: Lady Grace Mildmay 1552-1620 (London; Collins and Brown, 1993).

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living in relatively wealthy, educated, elite households. For the majority of

receipt manuscripts, there are no corresponding diaries, journals, letters, or

inventories. The difficulties which this presents to cultural historians seeking to

place individual practices within a specific social context are less awkward in

terms of establishing a narrative of the botanical medicines in use, even if that

narrative is intended to be used in broadening our understanding of the wider

cultural practice. In this last instance, it is by looking at the sheer weight of

practice, using an almost quantitative form of analysis, rather than a qualitative

one, that produces meaningful information of a culture which existed across

considerable lengths of time and geographical distance, as well as across social

strata. Similarly, cultural historians have devoted increasing amounts of time

and attention to consideration, not only of Atlantic botanical cultures, but

particularly to those cultures associated with minority groups and practices.

Londa Scheibinger’s consideration of the medical knowledge held by slave

groups, alongside Kay Moss’ analysis of folk medicine in the southern states of

America both speak to this growing interest in trans-Atlantic, as well as ‘little’

traditions of medicine.8 In order to further both examination of that body of

knowledge contained within receipt books, and to broaden our understanding of

the ‘little’ Anglo-American domestic botanical culture which they represent, a

range of other literary sources have also been consulted, including verse,

dramatic interlude, and Robert Burton’s unique medical autobiography. More

traditional sources, such as probate inventories, almanacs, printed vernacular

medical books, and settler texts have also yielded important material

8 Londa Scheibinger, "Scientific Exchange in the Eighteenth-Century Atlantic World", Soundings in Atlantic history: latent structures and intellectual currents, 1500-1830 ed. Bernard Bailyn (Harvard: Harvard University Press. 2009); Kay K. Moss, Southern Folk Medicine, 1750-1820 (University of South Carolina Press, 1999).

25

concerning the nature of plants commonly found, and used, within domestic

practices across the field of study.

The thesis first addresses how knowledge of plant medicines was

conveyed, and received, within the Early Modern and Colonial domestic sphere.

This deserves closer attention than the typical analysis it has so far received, as

it sheds important and significant light on the issue of women’s medical agency

and authority, as well as speaking to questions surrounding the social

transmission of medical knowledge more generally. Women’s agency and

knowledge in this period were largely limited to the home, therefore the extant

source material through which to investigate their practice is scarcer than that

generated by their male contemporaries in scholarly institutions, as the

domestic milieu was less likely to preserve documentation. Historians writing on

Early Modern and Colonial female agency often preface that agency in terms of

the prevailing male practice, looking for instances of masculine medical theory,

for example, in the female sources, as a means of authenticating and

legitimizing the female knowledge base, education, and ultimately, practice.9

Domestic practice differed from learned medicine in that it was adaptive, non

theoretical, communally derived, and communally responsive. For domestic

medical practice, the use of botanical, and very occasionally non-botanical,

medicines largely constituted the whole of the practice, with instances of

individuals applying medical theory and concepts being the exception rather

9 Cf. Rebecca LaRoche’s work with women’s copies of herbals, or the consideration of medical authority in Lady Grace Mildmany’s writing by Linda Pollock. Rebecca Laroche, Medical Authority and Englishwomen’s Herbal Texts, 1550-1650 (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2009); Lady Grace Mildmay, Linda Pollock, ed., With Faith in Physic, The life of a Tudor Gentlewoman. Lady Grace Mildmay 1552-1620 (London; Collins and Brown, 1993).

26

than the norm. Thus, in order to further our understanding of the domestic use

of botanicals, the thesis aims to examine the domestic practice in terms of its

own coherent rationale, rather than searching for instances where it

appropriated and wielded aspects of learned medical practice and authority.

Considering domestic botanical cultures in light of a complexity of transmission

and reception, and as a ‘little’ tradition in its own right, a composite, ‘bricolage’

picture of how knowledge of botanicals was acquired and implemented is

required. Oral, scribal, and printed cultures are therefore examined in order to

flesh out the particular place of botanicals within the domestic setting.

Personalized adaptation of the communal materia medica by individual

authors and households as well as by certain networks is explored as a means

of illustrating the flexibility and responsive nature of the domestic practice. That

this practice was neither theoretical, nor dogmatic, enabled it to respond quickly

and fruitfully to individual needs and circumstances, producing wide variations

in the application of the communally defined plant lists, and allowing for

individualization within the wider communal practice. The shared Anglo-

American canon of herbs is then considered as part of a greater Atlantic,

particularly domestic Atlantic, culture, becoming at the same time a distinct

strand within the broader study of botanical cultures. Individual plants and

plant medicines are examined in detail, particularly in terms of their preparation

and administration, in order to explore further the complexity of the domestic

practice. Representative old world plants are explored as the means of

establishing the inherited, shared domestic Anglo-American materia medica and

its highly individualized use. Examination of the new world botanicals illustrates

27

both the continuity of this combined communal and individual practice (up until

the eighteenth-century), and the flexibility and responsiveness of the underlying

materia medica itself to wider community differentiation. This last, ultimately,

allowed for greater inclusion of indigenous plants in later Colonial recipes.

Methodology

In tracing botanicals in domestic use across a broad chronological and

geographical field, the thesis has had to span several critical and theoretical

fields. It has, for example, considered oral, scribal, and textual cultures and

theories, some of which themselves borrow from a wide range of

methodologies. Oral and scribal cultures, in particular, owe much to

anthropological methods of exploration, as well as to studies in cultural

sociology. The most important of these approaches for the first Chapter, and

also informing the second and third Chapters, is the anthropological method of

applying knowledge of behaviour in one observable group to behaviours within

a second, similar group.10 In this instance the transfer of knowledge and skills

within domestic spaces is considered. While there are limitations to this method

in terms of its speculative nature and possible subjectivity, it is a primary means

of ingress into historical oral practices and cultures, and may fruitfully be

employed as such. The thesis similarly employs methods of considering cultural

and social norms by looking at how written expressions, whether scribal or

printed, reflect and represent the authorial base producing them. This work

10 Peter Burke, Popular culture in early modern Europe (Aldershot: Ashgate Publishing, , 2009); Carol Counihan and Penny Van Esterik, eds., Food and culture: a reader, (New York: Routledge, 2008); Adam Fox, Oral and Literate Culture in England 1500-1700 (Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2000); Robert Redfield, Peasant Society and Culture: An Anthropological Approach to Civilization (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1956).

28

often reads texts ‘against the grain’, that is to say, in order to elicit information

specific to plants and plant medicines, and the body of knowledge surrounding

plants and plant medicines, unlike the more conventional reading which is

typically concerned with reading authors’ knowledge, agency, and author in

order to shed light on their cultural and social lives. This atypical reading reflects

the expertise and background of the thesis’s author, who holds particular

knowledge and skills relating to the reading of botanicals as a medical herbalist.

This specialized approach aims to both further the recovery of Early Modern

and Colonial medicinal knowledge and practice, and to firmly place that

knowledge within a specific domestic culture. Research approaches borrowed

from economic history and trans-Atlantic cultures have informed this work also,

as have methods of cultural inquiry taken from horticultural histories and

Colonial narratives more broadly.11 The thesis is also informed by recent

gender-based approaches to history, since the bulk of the domestic sources,

particularly those of English provenance, are of clear female authorship, and as

agency emanating from the domestic sphere in general is gendered in nature.

The thesis has embraced this diversity of methodology as each brings a unique

and critically important perspective to bear on the material being considered.

11 Cf. Whitfield J. Bell, The Colonial Physician & Other Essays, (New York: Science History Publications, 1977); David Hackett Fischer, Albion’s Seed: Four British Folkways in America (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989); Gabrielle Hatfield, Memory, Wisdom and Healing: The History of Domestic Plant Medicine (Stroud: Sutton Publishing, 2005); David Freeman Hawke, Everyday Life in Early America (New York: Perennial Press, 2003); Ann Leighton, Early American Gardens: ‘For Meate or Medicine’ (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1986); Roy Macleaod, Nature and Empire: Science and the Colonial Enterprise (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001); Sarah Hand Meacham, Every Home a Distillery: Alcohol, Gender, and Technology in the Colonial Chesapeake (Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 2009); Rosemary O’Day, Women’s Agency in Early Modern Britain and the American Colonies (Edinburgh: Pearson Education, 2007); Londa Scheibinger and Claudia Swan, eds., Colonial Botany: Science, Commerce, and Politics in the Early Modern World (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2007); Londa Scheibinger, ’Scientific Exchange in the Eighteenth-Century Atlantic World‘, in Soundings in Atlantic history: latent structures and intellectual currents, 1500-1830, Bernard Bailyn, Ed. (Harvard: Harvard University Press. 2009).

29

Because of the number and complexity of approaches employed, however,

each has been considered in greater depth at the beginning of the Chapters

where they can be read and considered in context along with the botanicals

themselves.

The term ‘learned’, in the sense of educated, professional, formal and

dominant, holds a variety of meanings in differing contexts, many of which are

considered in this work. For example, ‘learned’ narratives in Early Modern and

Colonial historiography often run parallel to ‘elite’ narratives, and are associated

with, or refer to, class structures. Equally, the term may occur in connection

with constructs associated with Empire and the infrastructure and learning

associated with Empire, thus the ‘learned’ individual is equated with the ruling

social order (as opposed to those peoples who were ruled), and the invading

power (as opposed to indigenous peoples). In gender studies ‘learned’ practice

is often used to describe public masculine authority (as opposed to domestic

female knowledge); in transmission theory ‘learned’ may refer to printed

authority (rather than oral histories), and so on. In the particular context of this

work, where all of these topics are touched upon, ‘learned’ refers specifically to

professional medical concepts, practice, and transmission, unless otherwise

stated. There is no doubt that the majority of ‘learned’ medical thinking across

Early Modern and Colonial Anglo-America was elite, white, European,

masculine, and public, and all of these aspects are considered to some extent

within the thesis. That is not to say, however, that all sources which may be

described as ‘learned, white, European, masculine, and public’ or any

combination of these are ‘elite’ within this context: indeed, the personal receipt

30

books of well-read women from demonstrably ‘elite’ households, such as the

gentlewomen Lady Grace Mildmay and Elizabeth Freke are not ‘learned’ in so

far as they do not purport to be medical texts written by medically trained

individuals in themselves.12 Likewise, the printed works of Colonial

propagandists such as Edward Winslow or John Josselyn, and the writings

(scribal or printed) of Colonial community leaders such as Cotton Mathers, the

Washingtons, or the Adams, are not ‘elite’ in this context for similar reasons. In

this use ‘learned’ reflects medical knowledge derived from the prevailing public

schools of practice and dissemination, whereas domestic or household

knowledge reflects an inherited lay practice typical of the Early Modern and

Colonial home.

For example, Edward Winslow’s writing, despite the fact that the author

was learned, white, European, and from a privileged class, is that of a layman;

he is not a trained medical practitioner and therefore whatever theories,

constructs, and practices found within his writing reflect widespread cultural

norms rather than elite, specialist training. Even the writings of those authors

who were medically trained (or apprenticed, in the case of Colonial physicians)

and therefore well versed in learned medical theory may fall into the non-elite,

domestic camp where and when they clearly write for an intended domestic

audience, and they eschew the elite technical language and theory of their

profession in order to do so. Likewise, the ‘elite’ physitian, Buchan, in writing a

book specifically for domestic use, produces a source which is non-elite in

12 Lady Grace Mildmay wrote in the late sixteenth- and early seventeenth-centuries, while Elizabeth Freke’s work comes from the late-seventeenth and early-eighteenth -centuries. Both authors come from relatively priveledged, elite households, each cites medical authority in her writings, and both have been the subject of scholarly attention. Their use of botanicals is considered more fully in chapters 3, 5, and 6.

31

nature. Both Winslow and Buchan were men from similar European

backgrounds: both wrote printed texts; each represented a form of ‘authority’.

Within this particular context however, neither consists an ‘elite’ source as

neither is written using exclusive terminology, nor does either of them reflect

current medical theory or practices requiring specialized knowledge or training.

As such, printed texts produced by non-medical ‘elite’ authors are consulted as

particularly important documents of a universal Anglo-American domestic

culture in Chapters 4 through 6, despite the fact that they were neither written

by women nor produced within a domestic setting.

Approaches to domestic medical sources and practice

The thesis’ approach to historiography has necessarily been broad and

inclusive, reflecting the many areas of study and method upon which the subject

touches. It has identified a new field of study in domestic botanical cultures,

drawing from current historiographical examination of domestic receipt books,

horticultural and trans-Atlantic histories, and the much broader field of Early

Modern and Colonial medical history. In looking at botanicals employed by

domestic medicine and indicative of household agency, this work is situated in

the field of gender history illuminated by the works of scholars interested in re-

evaluating and retrieving women’s agency.13 It also contributes to the field of

13 Cf. Catherine Field,"'Many hands hands': Writing the Self in Early Modern Women's Recipe Books" Chapter 4, Genre and women's life writing in early modern England Julie A Eckerle, and Michelle M. Dowd, eds (London: Ashgate Publishing, 2007); Linda Pollock, With Faith in Physic, The life of a Tudor Gentlewoman. Lady Grace Mildmay 1552-1620 (London; Collins and Brown, 1993); Elaine Leong, ’Making Medicines in the Early Modern Household‘, Bulletin History of Medicine, 2008, 82: 145-168; Elaine Leong and Sara Pennell. ‘Recipe Collections and the

32

botanical history, particularly as this relates to trans-Atlantic cultures and

narratives of Empire.14 Finally, it considers domestic botanical culture within the

context of oral, scribal, and print transmission histories.15

The history of medicines has largely been contextualized within the

history of medicine and of medical practice, and the latter has typically revolved

around public practice: that is to say, that provision generally available and

countenanced by societies as a whole. A number of authors have looked at this

broader picture, both reflecting ‘learned’ medical practice and popular cultural

perceptions of medicine.16 Wear writes of historiography concentrating ‘on

Currency of Medical Knowledge in the Early Modern “Medical Marketplace”’, M. Jenner and P. Wallis (eds.), The Medical Marketplace and Its Colonies c. 1450-c 1850 (Palgrave Macmillian, 2007), pp.133-52; Sara Pennell, ‘Perfecting Practice? Women Manuscript Recipes’, Early Modern Women’s Manuscripts Writing: selected papers from the Trinity/Trent Colloquium, Victoria Elizabeth Burke and Jonathan Gibson eds., (Ashgate Publishing, Ltd., 2004) pp.237-258; Jennifer Kay Stine, Opening Closets: The Discovery of Household Medicine in Early Modern England (PhD Thesis, Stanford University, 1996); Carol Counihan & Penny Van Esterik, eds. Food and culture: a reader, (NY: Routledge, 2008); Kay K. Moss, Southern Folk Medicine, 1750-1820 (University of South Carolina Press, 1999). 14 Cf. Claudia Swan and Londa Scheibinger eds. Colonial Botany: Science, Commerce, and Politics in the Early Modern World (Philadelphia: UP. Press, 2007); Judith Sumner, American Household Botany: A History of Useful Plants, 1620-1900 (Timber Press, 2004); Roy Macleaod,. Nature and Empire: Science and the Colonial Enterprise (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001). 15 Cf. Jan Vansina, 'historical knowledge', Oral Tradition: a study in historical methodology Jan Vansina, Selma Leydesdorff, Elizabeth Tonkin, eds. (USA: Transaction Publishers, 2006); Adam Fox, Oral and Literate Culture in England 1500-1700 (Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2000); Peter Burke, Popular culture in early modern Europe, (Ashgate Publishing, Ltd., 2009); Harold Love, Scribal publication in seventeenth-century England, (Oxford: Oxford University, 1993); Londa Scheibinger, "Scientific Exchange in the Eighteenth-Century Atlantic World", Soundings in Atlantic history: latent structures and intellectual currents, 1500-1830 Bernard Bailyn, ed. (Harvard: Harvard University Press. 2009); Jack Larkin, The Reshaping of Everyday Life 1790-1840, Everyday Life in America (New York: Harper Perennial. 1989); Rosemary O’Day, Women’s Agency in Early Modern Britain and the American Colonies. Patriachy, partnership and patronage (Harlow: Pearson Education, 2007). 16 Louise Curth, From Physick to Pharmacology: Five Hundred Years of British Drug Retailing (Burlington VT: Ashgate Publishing, Ltd. 2006); Thomas Horrocks, Popular Print and Popular Medicine. Almanacs and Health Advice in Early America (Massachusetts, University of Massachusetts Press, 2008); Andre Wear, "The popularization of medicine in early modern England", The Popularization of Medicine, 1650-1850, Roy Porter, ed. (Routledge: London,1992); Mary Fissell, “Readers, text & contexts: Vernacular medical works in early modern England”, The Popularization of Medicine, IBID, pp. 72-96; Doreen Evenden Nagy, “Lay and learned medicine in early modern England”, Health, disease and society in Europe 1500-1800: A Source Book, Peter Elmer and Ole Peter Grell, eds., (Manchester, Manchester University Press, 2004), pp 38-44; Doreen Evenden Nagy, Popular Medicine in Seventeenth-

33

medicine, its theories, organization, relations with the state and its general place

in society’, though even this seems overly inclusive, as much traditional

historiography has been concerned specifically with learned practice: the

theories, understanding, and practice of professionals, rather than medical

practice in its entirety. More recently, interest in domestic medical practice has

focused firmly on the social history behind household medicine, particularly in

looking at how the domestic delivery of medicine reflected and impacted on

those women closely allied to it.17 Primary to this body of study have been

questions of economics, power, and authority, and secondary has been a

consideration of knowledge, with a particular interest in seeking out evidence of

awareness of contemporaneous medical theory in these authors’ writings.

The historiography touching on gendered aspects of domestic medical

provisioning has been well served. Along with Mary Lindemann’s identification

of the predominant role which household provision played in providing Early

Modern medical care, Elaine Leong notes that ‘we know that home-based

medicine constituted the bulk of health care in the period’.18 While Lindemann

refers to ‘legitimate practitioners’ in her discussion of regular professional health

care providers, suggesting the possibility of illegitimate practitioners – both

Century England, (Ohio, Bowling Green State University Press, 1988); Roy Porter, ‘Spreading medical Enlightenment. The popularization of medicine in Georgian England and its paradoxes’., The Popularization of Medicine, IBID, pp.215-231; Pelling, Margaret. Medical Conflicts in Early Modern London; Patronage, Physicians, and Irregular Practitioners 1550 – 1640. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2003); Mary Lindemann, Medicine & Society in Early Modern Europe (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999). 17 Such as Jennifer Stine’s overview of early modern Englishwomen’s domestic agency, Jennifer Kay Stine, ’Opening Closets’: The Discovery of Household Medicine in Early Modern England (PhD Thesis, Stanford University, 1996), or Marvin Zahniser’s consideration of the colonial life of Eliza Pinckney in The Letterbook of Eliza Lucas Pinckney: Intriguing Letters by One of Colonial America's Most Accomplished Women, Eliza Lucas Pinckney (Columbia, SC: Univ of South Carolina Press, 1972). 18 Elaine Leong, ‘Making Medicines in the Early Modern Household’ Bulletin of the History of MedicineVolume 82, Number 1, Spring 2008, p.147.

34

professional and lay - Mary Fissell speaks of the value to be found in examining

(or re-examining) concepts of health and healing in a much broader context to

that traditionally embraced:

When we re-embed healing within more general care of the body, we abolish hierarchies of value created by learned physicians and reproduced by later generations seeking to create or endorse traditions within medicine = seeking professional ancestors as object lessons.19

Fissell’s examination of ‘medicine’ in terms of ‘care of the body’ might be

fruitfully expanded to ‘care of the person’, encompassing a wider bio-psycho-

social model. This latter model not only allows for the inclusion of those non-

elite forms of medical practice noted by Fissell, but also goes further to embrace

those aspects of well-being associated with preventative care which the Early

Modern householder clearly incorporated into her larger practice. Hence for

most women writing receipt books, remedy and recipe, medicine and food, were

both distinct, and distinctly related.

The thesis differs from much of the current scholarship looking at Early

Modern and Colonial domestic medicines in two important ways. First, it is

concerned with examining the medicines themselves, while current study has

tended to concentrate on individual women and women’s manuscripts, focusing

on the women’s’ agency, and using household receipt books as a means of

ingress into the daily cultural and social lives of Early Modern English women.

These scholars, both historians and literary critics, have read the domestic

sources as a means of informing our understanding of the latter’s lives,

intellectual apprehension, and social standing. For example, Elaine Leong’s

19 Mary Fissell, Introduction, Bulletin of History of Medicine special issue, ‘Women, Health, and Healing in Early Modern Europe’, 2008, 82:1-17, p.3.

35

work with Elizabeth Freke adds substantially to our social understanding and

placement of Freke’s medical knowledge and practice, building on Raymond

Anselment’s earlier commentary on Freke’s writings.20 Where Anselment’s

work focused primarily on Freke’s social, familial, and religious life, Leong uses

Freke’s medical writings to explore seventeenth-century female domestic

agency, authority, and learning. Similarly, Linda Pollock’s consideration of Lady

Grace Mildmay’s medical practice sits within a broader social context of church,

community, and family while exploring Mildmay’s contribution as a lay medical

practitioner.21 In both instances, these scholars have established the legitimacy

of lay female practice, particularly in reference to their personal manuscript

writings. This scholarship into individual practice sits well within the structural

theory of female medical practice already set in place by writers such as Doreen

Evendon Nagy, who established the breadth of both lay and professional

medical provisioning in seventeenth-century England, and Margaret Pelling’s

work examining a similar breadth of medical provisioning, including the role of

women in providing domestic health care in the sixteenth- and seventeenth-

centuries.22 While examination of these women practitioners is of vital

importance in addressing our greater understanding of this period and of

women’s history more generally, it is not the main aim of this thesis. Rather, the

thesis interrogates the botanicals, those herbal preparations and medicaments

20 Elaine Leong, ’Making Medicines in the Early Modern Household‘, Op.cit; Anselment, Raymond A., The Remembrances of Elizabeth Freke, 1671-1714, Op.cit. 21 Linda Pollock, With Faith in Physic, The life of a Tudor Gentlewoman. Lady Grace Mildmay 1552-1620. (Lo,don; Collins and Brown, 1993). 22 Doreen Evenden Nagy, Popular Medicine in Seventeenth-Century England, (Ohio: Bowling Green State University Press, 1988); Doreen Evenden Nagy, “Lay and learned medicine in early modern England”, Health, disease and society in Europe 1500-1800: A Source Book, Peter Elmer and Ole Peter Grell, eds., (Manchester, Manchester University Press, 2004), pp 38-44; Margaret Pelling, “The Women of the Family? Speculations around Early Modern British Physicians”, Social History of Medicine [1995, Volume 07.03: pp 383 – 401]; Margaret Pelling, Medical Conflicts in Early Modern London; Patronage,Physicians, and Irregular Practitioners 1550 – 1640. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2003).

36

made and delivered by this largely female authorship, in hopes of building a

clearer picture of the medicines themselves. That picture of the canon of plants

in use in turn serves to reclaim lost knowledge relating to the production and

administration of herbal medicines. Moreover, this more fully developed picture

in turn relates back to, and informs, those larger social and gender-defined

histories by considering the sources as exemplars of a domestic botanical

culture.

Secondly, this thesis differs from much of the work looking at Early

Modern domestic receipt books by examining a broad field of study, both

chronologically and geographically. A number of scholars have looked at single

authors, as previously noted.23 Similarly, work has been directed toward

examining domestic medical authors and texts representative of a particular

community or coterie, such as Catherine Field’s work with Early Modern

Englishwomen’s manuscripts, or Kay Moss’s detailed examination of recipes

from the Carolina colonies. Looking more widely, both in terms of the number of

manuscripts consulted, but also at the number of hands and voices which these

receipt books represent, Catherine Field’s ‘Many Hands, Hands’ establishes the

role of receipt book manuscripts in giving voice to Early Modern women’s

agency, as well as providing the modern reader ingress into a range of

individual’s lives and thinking. Moss’s work also examines a number of

manuscript sources, here looking more specifically at medicines and medical

practices in the eighteenth and early nineteenth-century Carolinas. Each of

these authors examines a number of manuscripts with an eye to establishing

23 Pollock, Op.Cit.; Raymond Anselment, The Remembrances of Elizabeth Freke, 1671-1714, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001); Leong, Op.Cit.

37

norms for their authorship groups, prescribed by specific geographical and

chronological criteria. There has, however, been little overview of whether all of

these authors represent a richer and broader, while also singular and unique,

domestic Anglo-American practice as a whole.24

Yet there is ample precedence for examination of this particular extended

chronological and geographical field in parallel historiographies, notably in

relation to domestic and Colonial narratives. For example, Rosemary O’Day

considers the ‘like versus like’ nature of Early Modern English and American

Colonial history in Women’s Agency in Early Modern Britain and the American

Colonies, looking at the agency of Anglo-American women across the sixteenth,

seventeenth-, and eighteenth-centuries.25 Likewise, Atlantic historiography

often considers a similar time span, as seen in Londa Scheibinger’s Soundings

in Atlantic history: latent structures and intellectual currents which embraces the

years 1500 to 1830, and Jenner and Wallis’ The Medical Marketplace and Its

Colonies which concerns itself with an overview of commercial medicine from

1450 to 1850.26 Reflecting this broader historiography, the thesis examines

botanicals mentioned in English and American receipt books, letters, and

journals written between 1550 and 1800, as these particular years define a

prescribing era which is particularly rich in terms of domestic practice. Indeed,

24 Catherine Field, ‘”Many hands hands”: Early Modern Englishwomen's Recipe Books and the Writing of Food, Politics, and the Self’ Chapter 4, Eckerle, Julie A. & Dowd, Michelle M. Genre and women's life writing in early modern England (London: Ashgate Publishing, 2007); Kay K Moss, Southern Folk Medicine 1750 – 1820, (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1999). 25 O’Day, Rosemary. Women’s Agency in Early Modern Britain and the American Colonies. Patriachy, partnership and patronage (Harlow: Pearson Education, 2007). 26 Londa Scheibinger, "Scientific Exchange in the Eighteenth-Century Atlantic World", Soundings in Atlantic history: latent structures and intellectual currents, 1500-1830 ed. Bernard Bailyn (Harvard: Harvard University Press. 2009); M. Jenner and P. Wallis (eds.), The Medical Marketplace and Its Colonies c. 1450-c 1850 (Palgrave Macmillian, 2007), pp. 133-52.

38

this ‘long’ Early Modern period allows for a detailed examination of whether, and

how, domestic botanical prescribing changed across a period of exploration and

cultural change, as well as contributing to the dialogue considering the

transmission of medicinal knowledge already underway.

The thesis differs further from much of the existing historiography

surrounding domestic medicine in its consideration of origins and nature of

domestic knowledge of botanicals, particularly as this relates to transmission

cultures. Without desiring to contribute to a divisive approach to medical history,

this study is interested in the differences still to be fully explored between

botanical usage and knowledge in different environments, and by different

practitioners. Londa Schiebinger, for example, catalogues those women who

adapted to, and succeeded at, the male scientific paradigm, while speaking to

the difference between masculine and feminine apprehension of ‘the scientific’

in terms of academics versus ‘craft’.27 This differentiation of ‘science’ and ‘craft’

is an important and interesting one, and one which begs further investigation.

Indeed, a particular difference may be observed between professional and

domestic practices, and between theory-based elite medicine and a common,

non theoretical authority, knowledge, and practice. This thesis therefore

explores the distinctive nature of domestic knowledge, production, and

prescribing of botanicals by householders, a subject which has been largely

ignored by scholarship to date.

27 Londa Schiebinger “Maria Winkelmann at the Berlin Academy’” in Gendered domains: rethinking public and private in women’s history, Dorothy Helly and Susan Reverby (eds) Cornell University Press: 1992, p. 57

39

Current scholarship concerned with the retrieval of Early Modern oral and

scribal cultures has been read collectively and applied to the household use and

knowledge of botanicals in order to build a framework for a domestic botanical

culture in Chapters one and two.28 Peter Burke’s work on popular culture has

contributed the idea of a ‘bricolage’ as well as the ideas surrounding ‘little’

versus ‘great’ medical traditions, each of which are defining characteristics of

domestic botanical cultures.29 Fox’s and Vansina’s work in reclaiming oral

cultures via textual evidence and inferred approaches regarding the nature, and

role, of oral traditions has been equally invaluable in providing a basic template

for the thesis’s approach to apprehending the oral roots of domestic knowledge

and use of botanicals. Carole Counihan’s scholarship concerned with current

culinary recipes and the correlation which may be drawn between them and

historical practices as well as the role of oral transmission in each instance, also

informs this work. Margaret Ezell’s work with scribal cultures broadly, and

women’s domestic manuscripts specifically, is here read in conjunction with

Vansina’s and Counihan’s works, providing a continuation of the analysis of

gendered oral traditions into the sphere of scribal culture. Each of these authors

is largely concerned with the reclamation of subaltern voices, and each

necessarily embraces a wide, creative approach to methodology which the

thesis has mirrored in order to construct a comprehensive and robust picture of

the roots and social context of domestic botanical culture. 28 Peter Burke, Popular culture in early modern Europe (Ashgate Publishing, Ltd., 2009); Adam Fox, Oral and Literate Culture in England 1500-1700. (Oxford, Oxford University Press: 2000); Jan Vansina, 'historical knowledge',. Oral Tradition: a study in historical methodology, Jan Vansina, Selma Leydesdorff, Elizabeth Tonkin, eds., (USA: Transaction Publishers, 2006); Carole Counihan, Food and culture: a reader, Carole Counihan, & Penny Van Esterik, eds., (Routledge, 2008); Margaret J.M.Ezell, 'Domestic Papers: Manuscript Culture and Early Modern Women's Life Writing' Chapter 3, Genre and women's life writing in early modern England, Julie A. Eckerle, & Michelle M. Dowd, eds., (London: Ashgate 2007). 29 ‘Bricolage’ refers to the composite, adaptive nature of the domestic culture, and is further discussed in chapter 1.

40

Primary Sources, Receipt Books

Receipt books are handwritten and bound collections of recipes, often

with both culinary and medicinal examples. Both English and American receipt

books employ a similar range of plants, and address a similar range of ailments.

Of the 128 receipt books consulted in the thesis, about eighty percent are of

English authorship, with only twenty-six manuscripts, about twenty percent,

holding clear Colonial American provenance. The English manuscripts also

represent a far greater chronological span of authorship, from the late sixteenth-

through to the early-nineteenth-centuries, with a fairly even spread across the

whole of the span, though there is a clear wealth of mid-seventeenth-century

representatives. The earliest American source dates from 1650, with the bulk of

material written in the eighteenth-century. While this preponderance of English

sources would seem lopsided on first glance, it speaks to the nature of an

ongoing, organic and evolving, Anglo-American tradition, where the later

Colonial works are a trans-Atlantic continuance of the earlier English model. As

a result, the proportion of resources found and sampled here represents an

approximate ratio of the settled, Colonial period of time in relation to the overall

cultural span considered by the thesis.

Sampling of the manuscripts was determined largely by archival access.

In order to produce a ‘large picture’ overview of domestic use of botanicals,

manuscripts held in substantial repositories such as the Wellcome and British

Libraries in London, and the Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington D.C.,

were given priority. Problems surrounding this method of sampling largely stem

41

from the nature of collections generally: the instances of manuscripts which

have been preserved and collected err in favour of elite households and learned

authors, with sources originating from smaller, provincial, and more socially

diverse households less likely to be represented. This is, however, true of

extant receipt book manuscripts more generally, as the earliest examples in

particular tend to represent households with an atypical, high level of female

literacy, appreciation for the practical necessity of female agency and authority,

and the means and likelihood of archival historical preservation. As a result,

while the aim of the thesis was to provide an overview of Anglo-American

botanicals representative of a communal practice in the widest sense possible,

it acknowledges that much of the evidence is overly representative of a small,

elite portion of Early Modern English and Colonial American households. The

inclusion of family manuscripts, sources of anonymous authorship, and many of

the Colonial Quaker and German American sources redresses this imbalance to

a small degree.

Of the 102 English sources, over half (some sixty-nine) of the

manuscripts have an identifiable femal authorship, seven of them were written

by men, and twenty-six of the receipt books, about a quarter of the English

manuscripts, are either anonymous, ‘family’, or communal manuscripts of some

kind, with no clear individual, identifiable author. Of the twenty-six American

manuscripts consulted, exactly half, thirteen, have an identifiable female author,

a third of them were written by men, with only four ‘family manuscript’ examples.

Statistically, the English manuscripts have a considerably higher proportion of

female authorship, with a negligible (about seven percent) percentage of male

42

authorship, illustrating a clear gendered bias in authorship. The American

sources, on the other hand, show a substantially different picture, with clear

female authorship accounting for only half of the manuscripts, with family

sources showing contributions from authors of both genders, and singular male

authorship accounting for over a third of the overall sampling. The difference in

gendered authorship here, while of particular interest to cultural and trans-

Atlantic historians, is of less import in considering domestic botanical cultures.

The higher proportion of male authors represented in early American sources

reflects a higher proportion of single male households in Colonial settlements

than in Early Modern England. In both countries the majority of receipt books

with a family provenance (where there is clear reference to the care of children,

for example), have female authorship. Thus, for the purposes of the thesis, the

clear female bias in authorship in both sets of manuscripts allows for gendered

assumptions to be made in outlining the given field of study. Further, gender

issues, while relevant to establishing the framework and defining criteria of a

domestic botanical culture, are not the main focus of this research, and receipt

book manuscripts are read with the primary intention of recovering information

relating to botanical medicines; their use, preparation, and administration. This

information is used to reflect back onto the communal practice of employing the

herbs, rather than providing access into the social and cultural context of

individual authors or social groups.

Personal Letters & Journals

In addition to the primary receipt books, which form the main corpus of

documents analysed in the thesis, a small and necessarily limited range of

43

letters, journal entries, and anecdotal marginalia containing botanical

information has also been consulted. Typically these sources represent the

archived papers of families, as seen in the sixteenth-century Bacon and

eighteenth-century Adams papers, although some of the later American

sources, such as Margaretta Prentis’ manuscript, which bridges the receipt

book genre and that of the journal, or Moody Follesby’s ‘almanac diary’, are

clearly representative of more ordinary households.30 The letters of Anne

Bacon to her son and the correspondence between Abigail and John Adams,

for example, are also read across the grain, primarily in order to establish

familial evidence of domestic knowledge of botanicals, rather than as a means

of examining the social or political circumstances of either the individuals, or the

families, represented. Likewise, the jottings of Moody Follensby in the margins

of his ‘almanac diaries’ or the anecdotal relation of medicines in Prentis’s work

are included solely as a means of examining popular, lay approaches to health

and medical matters. On the whole, these sources are supplementary and read

primarily as a means of helping to establish the nature of those communal

domestic practices and perceptions underlying household botanical knowledge.

Moreover, the thesis has only looked at representative epistolary sources which

clearly reflect typical domestic apprehension of household medical matters and

the botanicals relating to them, thus relating back to the domestic canon of

herbs established by household receipt books.

30 LPL.ms..651 fol. 206: Anne Bacon Papers. Lady Anne Bacon to Anthony Bacon, (16 June 1595); Anne Bacon Papers. LPL.ms.653 fol. 362: Lady Anne Bacon to Anthony Bacon, (n.d); MHS.mss.011304, Adams Family Papers, Letter from Abigail Adams to John Adams, 8 - 10 September 1775; MHS.Mss.080473, Adams Family Papers, Letter from Abigail Adams to John Adams, 29 March, 1797; MHS., Ms.S-288, Moody Follonsbee’s Diary & Almanac (1765-1766); UP.ms.5034(1-4), Margaretta Prentis’s Cookery & Medical Recipes (Williamsburg: 1780s).

44

Probate Inventories

English and Colonial probate inventories providing information about the

sort of equipment, resources, and authoritative texts found in typical households

have been read as a means of establishing the domestic medical agency

employing botanical medicines. Two primary English inventories consulted,

those of Lady Grace Mildmay and Elizabeth Freke, are well established within

current scholarship and have been used for the purpose of broadening our

understanding of the communal practice of domestic medicine in England. All

of the American probate inventories from both the northern Plymouth colony

and the Williamsburg colony of Virginia originate in the seventeenth and

eighteenth-centuries, and are accessible online. These were consulted in order

to establish a like-for-like continuity with that established scholarship directed

towards the English sources. While the thesis acknowledges that those

sources available online in no way represent the whole of the communities in

question, they give a broad enough overview of the type of Colonial household,

and those items to be found in Colonial households, to produce an introductory

picture of Colonial domestic medical practice.

Printed Texts

While much of current scholarship is concerned with the schematics of

transmission, tracing the variants of knowledge back to original sources, this

thesis is more interested in identifying some of the many, varied, and organic

means by which information was disseminated amongst households. Far from

45

suggesting that transmission, reception, adaptation, and retransmission of

information within the domestic sphere was simple, linear and progressive, the

thesis would argue that one of the fundamental, unique, aspects of domestic

botanical cultures lies in its complex, interactive, and composite nature. As a

result, a range of popular printed texts which were accessed by domestic

authors, and which have been widely read by current scholars in conjunction

with domestic sources, have been consulted. These are broken down rather

broadly into four categories: herbals, vernacular medical texts, almanacs, and

what the thesis terms ‘settler texts’.

Herbals, printed texts outlining the nature and use of medicinal plants,

variously aimed at learned and domestic audiences, are read here in light of

their influence on wider popular culture, as well as impact on domestic authors,

and in acknowledgement of their standing amongst current historical

scholarship. Early Modern English herbals were typically of male authorship as

seen in the works of William Turner, John Parkinson, John Gerard, and Nicolas

Culpeper; and they tended to represent an expression of ‘learned’ medical

theory and practice aimed at a lay audience.31 As such, they included not only

the information pertaining to botanicals that domestic practitioners would have

been already closely familiar with, but also a wealth of varied theoretical

31 William Turner, The first and seconde partes of the herbal of William Turner Doctor in Phisick, lately ouersene, corrected and enlarged with the thirde parte, lately gathered, and nowe set oute with the names of the herbes, in Greke Latin, English, Duche, Frenche, and in the apothecaries and herbaries Latin, with the properties, degrees, and naturall places of the same. Here vnto is ioyned also a booke of the bath of Baeth in England, and of the vertues of the same with diuerse other bathes, moste holsom and effectuall, both in Almanye and England, set furth by William Turner Doctor in Phisick. God saue the Quene, (London,1568); John Parkinson, Paradisi in Sole: Paradisus Terrestris (London, 1629); John Gerard,The Generall Historie of Plantes: Selections from the 1633 Enlarged and Amended Edition, Holly Ollivander & Huw Thomas, eds. (Wales: Velluminous Press, 2008); Nicolas Culpeper, The Complete Herbal, (London, 1653).

46

medical content, often humoral or astrological, which was outside the typical

domestic purview. The two herbals which the thesis has consulted most widely

are John Parkinson’s Paradisi in Sole (1629), and Culpeper’s English Herbal

(1652) as information from both works may be traced in the works of a few

domestic manuscript authors, and both hold substantial currency in

contemporary historiography.32 Current scholarship has largely concerned

itself with tracing the import of herbals to domestic authors and practitioners,

both as repositories, and as arbitrators, of knowledge. The thesis reads against

the grain here in looking at some of the problems associated with the use of

herbals as resources for their contemporary readers, and by considering the

ways in which domestic authors adapted herbal content to better serve the

communal domestic practice.

Printed vernacular medical texts aimed at a domestic readership, or

‘home physicians’, are consulted considerably more widely than herbals, as

these typically tend to limit themselves to the sorts of information and

structuring found in the bulk of domestic receipt books, thus reflecting normative

practice. For example, they concern themselves primarily with direct information

on the botanicals, as well as including practical information relevant to

production and administration of same, and are typically lacking in the humoral

and astrological theorems found in herbals. Alongside their content the structure

of the home physicians tends to mimic the domestic sources more obviously

than the herbals, and they are read largely in this light by the thesis: as printed

extensions of a domestic genre. As it is not concerned with schematics of

32 John Parkinson, Paradisi in Sole (London, 1629); Nicholas Culpeper, The Complete Herbal, (London, 1653).

47

transmission, the thesis has not differentiated substantially between the

vernacular medical texts consulted here, but freely consults a number of

authors, referring in particular to George Hartman and Gideon Harvey’s works

as early, influential, examples of the type.33

Almanacs of both English and American provenance such as John

Swallow’s Almanacke or Ben Franklin’s Poor Will’s have been consulted,

primarily in response to their treatment by scholars of lay medical history, and

acknowledgement of their impact on popular culture rather than as a result of

their obvious or substantial medical content and contribution to domestic

practice.34 Almanacs did, however, have a strong practical element firmly rooted

in agrarian cultures, which embraced aspects of domestic medical practice, and

it is this content area which has been consulted by the thesis. While there are

important examples of female authorship of English almanacs, the majority of

these sources were written for bi-gendered domestic consumption by men.

Sampling of the almanacs reflects wide reading of examples from across the

spectrum specifically for medical content, as well as responding to references in

the current scholarly literature. Unlike the herbals, which were read as products

of learned medical practice aimed at a domestic audience, or the home

physicians which were read as extensions of the domestic practice itself,

33 George Hartman, The Family Physitian (London, 1696); Gideon Harvey, The Family-Physician, and the House-Apothecary (London, 1678). 34 Almanacs are annual publications containing detailed calendars with agrarian information including predictive weather forecasts, planting schedules, and a variety of other information; they are considered in detail in chapter 3. John Swallow, An Almanacke (Cambridge, 1642); Benjamin Franklin, Poor Richard’s Almanack of 1753 (Gettysburg College Special Collections). Cf. Louise Curth, ‘The medical Content of English Almanacs 1640 – 1700’, Journal of the History of Medicine and Allied Sciences, Vol 60, Number 3, (2005), 255–282; Horrocks, Thomas A., Popular Print and Popular Medicine. Almanacs and Health Advice in Early America (Amherst, Massachusetts: University of Massachusetts Press, 2008).

48

almanacs are here considered as expressions of popular culture, bridging both

domestic and learned practices.

The thesis has also consulted a body of printed sources which it terms

‘settler texts’ which have been read almost entirely by scholars as a means of

gaining ingress into early Colonial social and political life.35 These are printed

books written in part as texts of Empire, looking to catalogue settler experience

and the natural phenomena of the new world, and in part as Colonial

propaganda, hoping to both entice, and to educate, potential Colonialists.

These works were largely written by male, European adventurers, explorers,

and naturalists keen to promote exploration and emigration, men such as John

Josselyn, John Lawson, the Reverend Andrew Burnaby, and Peter Kalm. They

reflected and propagated popular European visions of American settlement

throughout the seventeenth- and eighteenth-centuries.36 Like the almanacs, the

primary emphasis of settler texts was neither medical nor botanical in nature,

35 For example, Robert Beverley’s The History of the First Settlement of Virginia (London, 1705) is cited in: T.H. Breen, ‘A changing labor force and race relations in Virginia 1660-1710’, Journal of Social History, Vol. 7, No 1 (1973), p. 3-25; T.H. ‘Breen Horses and gentlemen: The cultural significance of gambling among the gentry of Virginia’, The William and Mary Quarterly, Third Series. Vol. 34, No 2, (1977), pp. 239-257; while Reverand Andrew Burnaby’s Travels Through the Middle Settlements in North America, In the Years 1759 and 1760 (London, 1798) is cited in Giorgio Riello and Prasannan Parthasarathi, The Spinning World: A Global History of Cotton Textiles, 1200-1850 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009; and John Josselyn’s Account of Two Voyages to New-England (London, 1675) is cited in Linda M Heywood and John K. Thornton, ‘“Canniball Negroes“, Atlantic Creoles, and the Identity of New England's Charter Generation’, African Diaspora, Volume 4, Number 1, (2011), pp. 76-94; Roger Thompson, Mobility and Migration: East Anglian Founders of New England, 1629-1640 (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 2009). 36 John Josselyn, An Account of Two Voyages to New-England, 2nd edition (London, 1675); John Lawson, A New Voyage to Carolina; Containing the Exact Description and Natural History of That Country: Together with the Present State Thereof. And a Journal of a Thousand Miles, Travel'd Thro' Several Nations of Indians. Giving a Particular Account of Their Customs, Manners, &c. (London,1709); Rev. Andrew Burnaby, Travels Through the Middle Settlements in North America, In the Years 1759 and 1760, with Observations upon the State of the Colonies, Edition the Third, Revised, Corrected, and Greatly Enlarged, by the Author (London,1798) original publication London, 1775); Peter Kalm, Peter Kalm’s Travels in North America; containing its natural history, and a circumstantial account of its plantations and agriculture in general (London, 1770).

49

and also like the almanacs, they had a strong practical element to their content,

in this instance providing information vital to successful settlement in the new

world. It is this last area, particularly references to those medicines considered

of key importance for the survival of the average householder, which the thesis

consults. Unlike any of the other printed works, these texts are not offering

medical advice per se at all, but rather simply providing lists of botanical agents

considered appropriate, indeed necessary, for domestic provisioning. The

thesis, again, reads these sources across the grain in accessing this very small

portion of information: it is primarily interested here in the listed botanicals,

rather than in the wider social and political circumstances or individual lives of

the authors.

Chapter One of the thesis considers the communal nature of domestic

knowledge and use of plant medicines, establishing the concept of a domestic

botanical culture. This culture is then examined as an example of a ‘little’

medical tradition separate from prevailing ‘grand’ traditions of the period. The

thesis then considers the composite, ‘bricolage’ nature of this culture, building

on current theory surrounding the nature and role of oral cultures in order better

to define the body of knowledge and practice as a singular, communal, entity. It

is particularly concerned with the female nature of oral traditions, and the role of

oral familial transmission in building and shaping the communal domestic

botanical culture.

50

Chapter Two examines the ways and means by which authors and

households personalized the communal domestic botanical culture by

examining both the shared materia medica, and individual variations in adapting

and applying that body of botanicals. Scribal sources and cultures are

interrogated in order further to establish the shared aspects of this culture, as

well as to identify that flexibility of practice which allowed for individualization.

Questions of personal expertise, attribution, and possible networks, are

addressed in relation to the broader botanical culture represented by scribal

sources, focusing particularly on receipt book manuscripts, as a means of

strengthening our understanding of the culture’s organic, adaptive nature.

Chapter Three examines the relationship between domestic knowledge

of botanicals and wider, popular culture. By examining a range of printed

sources available to, and aimed at, a domestic audience, the relative

differences between learned medical perspectives and domestic medical

practices are explored. Tracing examples of individual recipes across domestic

scribal and printed text sources, the thesis identifies areas of shared practice,

and aspects of practice which are more typical of the domestic culture.

Chapter Four introduces a framework from which to view the nature of a

shared trans-Atlantic domestic botanical culture. The thesis investigates

European perception of the new world in order to juxtapose and contextualize

this with domestic English adoption of new world botanicals. It further examines

both printed and scribal sources, referring heavily to travel writing and those

settler texts which provided a domestic audience with lists of those botanicals

51

deemed necessary for successful domestic settlement. The Chapter finally

looks at instances of Colonial communications pertaining to botanicals back to

the old world, considering the nature and the role of a continuing ‘singular’

domestic, as well as a shared popular, botanical culture.

Chapter Five considers four case studies of old world botanicals in order

to showcase the inherited and shared trans-Atlantic botanical culture employed

by households in both England and America. It looks at particular botanicals

representative of certain classes of plant material: flower, berry, and aromatic

plant; as well as considering the use of poppies across Anglo-American

households. Examination of specific recipes across households illustrates both

the continuity and similarity of practice seen across the whole of the practice,

but equally establishes its considerable ability to reflect that personal adaptation

according to need and circumstance which is a key aspect of the domestic

culture as a whole.

Chapter Six examines new world botanicals, again illustrating the

complex, shared communal Anglo-American botanical culture by tracing the

first, and few, indigenous American plants to infiltrate the English canon in use

on either side of the Atlantic. It traces the shared domestic culture here by

examining the five case study new world botanicals which are to be found

across the domestic Anglo-American canon: guaiacum, sassafras, sarsaparilla,

tobacco, and Jesuit’s bark. The Chapter then turns to look at diverging cultures

in the eighteenth-century when Colonial sources may be seen to include

increased use of a wider range of indigenous North American plants. This

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evidence of emerging differentiation is briefly examined in order to further

explore the nature of domestic botanical cultures as communally responsive

and dependent practices, with the adaptive Colonial canon reflecting a broader

breakdown in trans-Atlantic Anglo-American social systems.

53

Chapter 1. Communal Practices: Domestic Medicine an d Oral Cultures

This Chapter traces the complexities of domestic botanical culture,

outlining the main criteria differentiating this from learned practice, and

considering it as a largely feminine ‘little’ tradition which sits within the ‘greater’,

largely masculine, tradition of Early Modern and Colonial medical history. It

considers the nature of a domestic botanical culture, looking first at its complex

composition and transmission in terms of ‘bricolage’, with the practice reflecting

a mosaic of contributors and practitioners, before considering the roles of

familial, and communal, networks and cultures in its dissemination. The thesis

traces oral traditions, as these are largely representative of the original

communal, ‘grass-roots’, and un-archived voice typical of domestic botanical

cultures. In so doing, the thesis turns to two primary evidentiary forms of

methodology: the first employs extrapolated, or inferred, concepts of traditional

practice from known common practice, and is borrowed from anthropological

extrapolation methodology, and the second looks for instances where we may

glimpse earlier oral practices through a textual veil.37 The Chapter is

fundamentally concerned with establishing some of the boundaries and criteria

by which a ‘domestic botanical culture’ may be defined, focusing on its

communal, reflexive, adaptive, non theoretical, and organic nature. It is equally

interested in establishing both what the domestic culture itself consisted of, and

37 Jan Vansina and Carol Counihan, for example, use this method of establishing reasonable surmise about past practice based on knowledge of current behaviour. Jan Vansina, 'historical knowledge', Jan Vansina, Selma Leydesdorff, Elizabeth Tonkin eds. Oral Tradition: a study in historical methodology (USA: Transaction Publishers, 2006); Carole Counihan Food and culture: a reader, Carole Counihan & Penny Van Esterik, eds. (NY: Routledge, 2008).

54

those ways and means by which its origins influenced, and indeed, may be

seen in both print and scribal sources.

The methodological difficulties in tracing non-elite, irregular (private

household) practice has translated into a body of scholarship largely concerned

with tracing the transmission of medical knowledge across the professional, and

into private, spheres of practice, looking at the assimilation of intellectual theory

by domestic authors.38 If there is any evidence that transmission took place in

the opposite direction, whereby common lay practice was adopted by

professionals, it will be found in part by tracing how domestic information itself

was disseminated and received. As such, we would need to trace the path of

specific remedial practice (in this instance of botanical knowledge and use)

within both the private and public spheres, and in order to do so, oral, scribal,

and textual cultures need to be closely examined. Looking outside of elitist

intellectual history, a number of similarities may be seen in the transmission of

different forms of information. For example Adam Fox’s examination of ballad

transmission and Hull or Wilson and Brear’s consideration of the history of

cooking and food share a number of traits: notably, each of these authors refer

to the multi-evidential nature of sources, and the need to build a composite

38 Cf. Mary Fissell,’Readers, text & contexts: Vernacular medical works in early modern England‘ in The Popularization of Medicine, 1650-1850, Roy Porter, ed. (London: Routledge, 1992), pp. 72-96; Elaine Leong and Sara Pennell, ‘Recipe Collections and the Currency of Medical Knowledge in the Early Modern ‘Medical Marketplace’’ in The Medical Marketplace and Its Colonies c. 1450-c 1850, M. Jenner and P. Wallis, eds. (place: Palgrave Macmillian, 2007), pp. 133-52, Elaine Leong, ’Making Medicines in the Early Modern Household‘, Bulletin History of Medicine, 82 (2008), 145-68; Margaret Pelling, ‘The Women of the Family? Speculations around Early Modern British Physicians’, Social History of Medicine, Vol. 7, No. 3 (1995), 383 – 401; Linda Pollock, With Faith in Physic, The life of a Tudor Gentlewoman: Lady Grace Mildmay 1552-1620 (London; Collins and Brown, 1993).

55

picture of transmission where a preponderance of evidence builds a convincing

picture of complex communication routes.39

Fox writes of the ballad ‘Chevy Chase’ in terms of the difficulty in

describing whether it is ‘the product of oral, scribal, or print culture’.40 The

comparison between ballad and medical recipe is not necessarily an obvious

one, ballads exemplifying ‘popular culture’ active within the public realm,

whereas recipes dealing with inherited household medical knowledge were

considered and delivered within a private domestic space, yet useful

comparisons may be drawn. Both consider the transmission of information

which took place in all three cultures: oral, scribal, and print. Indeed, Fox’s

observation that ‘the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries … [saw] a society in

which the three media of speech, script, and print infused and interacted with

each other in a myriad of ways’ reflects as truly upon transmission of domestic

medical practice as it does forms of popular culture and dissemination of

knowledge.41 In this light, one could reframe the concept of domestic practice

within this ‘popular’ context, as one which, although carried out within the

private sphere of the home, was widespread enough, both chronologically and

geographically, to constitute a ‘popular’ practice. While Fox’s example sees a

vaguely scribal, oral and print evolution, it may be that the transmission of

information specific to domestic botanical culture generally followed this pattern,

39 Susan Hull’s Women According to Men: The World of Tudor-Stuart Women (London: Altamira Press. 1996) or C. Anne Wilson and Peter Brears’ Banquetting Stuffe: The Fare and Social Background of the Tudor and Stuart Banquet, Leeds Symposium on Food History and Traditions, (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press,1991). 40 A. Fox, Oral and Literate Culture in England 1500-1700. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), p. 5. 41 IBID, p.5.

56

but also reflects a more complex tangle of concurrent practices and

transmission routes.

In speaking of what constitutes and makes up ‘popular culture’, Burke

writes that ‘the elements from which [any one] individual can draw are relatively

limited … these elements are combined in stereotyped ways with relatively little

attempt at modification – this is the principle of bricolage’.42 In this context, we

may define bricolage as ‘the construction or creation of a work from a diverse

range of things which happen to be available’, and is a theory that may well be

applied to Early Modern medical practice and its transmission. For the

purposes of the thesis, it suggests an adaptive, non theoretical based approach

to medical practice as well as the willingness to use whatever works and is

readily available from a wide range of botanical usage. Knowledge of specific

indigenous botanical medicines resulted from a manied, complex, layered and

inter-dependent, inter-relating series of systems, practices, and methods, a

great many of them untutored.43 This was also probably equally true of the

ways and means in which people used botanical medicines, which has been

widely considered and commented on in the literature, as well as of the ways

and means by which botanical knowledge was transmitted and received. In

looking at each mode of transmission, we see that none existed entirely on its

own in the dissemination of domestic botanical knowledge, and this picture of

‘untutored’ bricolage applies to the patchwork of methods employed.

42 Peter Burke, Popular culture in early modern Europe. (Ashgate Publishing, 2009), p.199. 43 The thesis has adopted Claude Lévi-Strauss’ anthropological construct of the term ‘bricolage’ meaning ‘… achieved by using whatever comes to hand’ (Merriam-Webster Dictionary & Thesaurus, 2007). Levi-Strauss used it to describe wide social and intellectual practices. Claude Lévi-Strauss, La Pensée sauvage, (Paris, 1962), The Savage Mind, English translation, (University of Chicago Press: Chicago, 1968).

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The bricolage nature of domestic medicine’s ‘little tradition’ meant both

that there was a progressive layering and learning taking place (across oral,

scribal, and print cultures), but also that there was an adaptable flexibility of

practice.44 An example of the first exists in the ‘proving’ of remedies by

individuals, with that approval, as much as the botanical recipe itself, either

inherited or passed on via a variety of routes.45 Secondly, the common nature of

the domestic practice was ironically illustrated by the many remedial

approaches towards any one given complaint, even within single sources, most

of which would have been accepted, and acceptable, to Early Modern and

Colonial domestic practitioners generally.46 For the domestic culture, there was

no one right way to approach these plants and their properties; rather

practitioners adopted a flexibility of approach capable of responding to the

variables of each particular instance of need. Reference to the ‘greater’

tradition of learned medical practice has occurred throughout the thesis in order

to establish the parameters of a ‘little’ domestic botanical culture. This in no way

contradicts cultural norms for the period, for Early Modern and Colonial trans-

Atlantic attitudes towards both lay and professional medical practice were

complicated, and often contradictory. Individuals, and communities, felt free to

combine consultations with either or both set of practitioners with variable praise

and condemnation of each. Equally, a degree of ‘medical’ knowledge

appropriation was made by domestic authors, as well as a co-transmission, or

44 Further consideration of the bricolage nature of the domestic culture, particularly in relation to receipt books, occurs in chapter two. 45 Recipe ‘proving’ has been widely treated in the literature, and is further considered in chapter 2. Cf. Linda Pollock, With Faith in Physic, Op.cit,; Catherine Fields, Op.cit.; Elaine Leong, Op.cit.; Jennifer Kay Stine, Op.cit. 46 The willingness of authors to provide many recipes addressing a single ailment is considered in chapters two, four, and five.

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movement of medical knowledge in the opposite direction, from lay, domestic

sources into professional fields of practice and dissemination.

Harold Love’s theory of transmission suggests that in some instances the

sheer weight and momentum of amassed manuscript material spills over from

the private domestic sphere into the public, printed sphere. This may well have

happened in the case of domestic receipt books and vernacular printings,

particularly in later Early Modern England, where the line between learned

women and households and their relationship to learned public thought was

blurred. Indeed, this may be interpreted as a sort of escalation of thought, with

an elite body of authority ultimately distilled from the accumulation of grassroots

practice. Love interprets W.J. Cameron’s work with Restoration verse in terms

of ‘the texts … contained in a substantial body of manuscripts can be assumed,

in the absence of countervailing evidence in the variants themselves, to derive

from single archetypes’, with an inability to draw connections between the

various manuscripts on the part of scholars put down to a kind of ‘blindness to

the nature and persistence of this culture’.47 In the case of domestic medical

knowledge regarding botanicals, this might be interpreted similarly, where the

momentum of common practice and thought eventually becomes so great that it

influences scholarship. In this instance, movement of recipes from domestic

manuscripts to almanacs and vernacular works may well have occurred in some

instances as a result of the sheer bulk of amassed material which is then

translated into the more authoritative print medium. The sheer volume of

manuscript evidence in this instance is then transformed into established

47 Harold Love, Scribal publication in seventeenth-century England, (Oxford: Oxford University, 1993), p.6.

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practice and given weight by its translation, first into the vernacular (almanacs),

and then by specialized (medical) texts.

There is a commonality of practice in the domestic sources, however,

which speaks to a degree of transmission, if not delineating its manner. Indeed,

this blurring of the lines of transmission between oral, scribal, and manuscript

transmission neatly illustrates Love and Fox’s assertion of a complex, multi-

layering of information dissemination. Clearly transmission and reception of

botanical knowledge within Early Modern Anglo-American households was a

complex, messy business, incorporating the utilization of oral, scribal, and

textual means. That printed sources supplemented, and eventually largely

supplanted, the oral culture in the transmission of domestic botanical knowledge

is equally undeniable. Counihan wrote of ‘the widespread circulation of printed

works on cooking, etiquette and household management … at a period when

the changing socio-economic structure made mobility, social and geographical’

possible. She also pointed to a dramatic change in the social fabric as

contributing ‘in a wider sense, to the weakening of sub-cultures in the society,

since the ‘secrets’ of one group were being made public to all others’.48 In

drawing attention to the role of printed works in facilitating social change,

Counihan highlights their eventual impact on both the loss of domestic botanical

knowledge, and of its transmission. Conversely, the emphasis on its demise

serves further to draw attention to both the universality and the import of the

earlier practice. A high degree of interchange occurred between botanical

cultures, and across transmission routes, yet the very mutability of transmission,

48 Carol Counihan, and Penny Van Esterik, eds. Food and culture: a reader, (NY: Routledge, 2008), p.88.

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and flexibility of practice, seen in domestic sources denotes a unique culture:

one that was equally responsive to popular, text-based information, and to

individual householders’ needs. It is this bricolage nature which determines the

‘little’ tradition of domestic medicine, and which, rather than weakening it, made

it resilient and purposeful.

The composite make up of domestic botanical culture, as well as its

flexible, adaptive nature, may also be viewed as an entity separate from, though

largely related to, the regular, learned medical practice of the period. Peter

Burke builds upon Robert Redfield’s theory of concurrent cultural traditions

which run parallel through a society, speaking of

the ‘great tradition’ of the educated few, and the ‘little tradition’ of the rest … the great tradition is cultivated in schools or temples; the little tradition works itself out and keeps itself going in the lives of the unlettered in their village communities … The two traditions are interdependent. Great tradition and little tradition have long affected each other and continue to do so.49

Burke emphasizes ‘what might be called a ‘residual’ definition of popular

culture, as the culture or tradition of the non-learned, the un-lettered, the non-

elite’.50 It may well be that non-elite practices, the little traditions such as that of

domestic medicine, were more likely to use bricolage in terms of their

dissemination than their professional, public counterparts. Indeed, Burke

describes the relationship between the ‘great tradition’ and the ‘little tradition’ in

terms of a reforming of popular culture whereby ‘the systematic attempt by

49 Robert Redfield, Peasant Society and Culture, (Chicago, 1956), pp.41-42, as cited by Peter Burke, IBID, p.50. 50 IBID.

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some of the educated … to change the attitudes and values of the rest of the

population, … to ‘improve’ them’.51 He further writes that

in the domain of medicine, a shift in the later eighteenth century in France and Italy from traditional to more scientific arguments and remedies has been noted. On the other hand, the ‘cunning folk’ seem to have remained active enough in the nineteenth and even the early twentieth century in many parts of Europe, surviving the scepticism of the upper classes.52

While speaking of this ‘great’ versus ‘little’ tradition in Early Modern medical

practice, Burke is clearly differentiating between both urban, ‘schooled’

traditions and their rural counterparts, but also between ‘learned’ and ‘lay’

traditions; that is to say, between the practices of professional physicians,

barber surgeons, apothecaries and the like, and those of lay herbalists, tooth

pullers, sooth sayers, and others with no formal education. The consideration

of a social shift away from lay practice towards a professional one coincides

with increased popularity and access to print culture, and the two may well be

usefully viewed in relation to each other. This would fit nicely with a move away

from that messy bricolage system which embraced a wide variety of

dissemination channels informing a plethora of practices across society: not

only does a society become reliant on a single primary form of medical practice,

but that practice becomes increasingly reliant on a single method of

transmission. Ultimately, access to common printed texts fed into, and

reflected, a homoegeneity of knowledge and practice surrounding medicines in

both professional and lay practices, eroding differences between the two.

Equally, that this occurred concurrently with better training of, and increased

51 Peter Burke, IBID, p.289. 52 Peter Burke, IBID, p.332. Ramsey (1988) and Pastore (2004) wrote about this phenomenon in Italy, and Mandrou (1968) examined it in France. Mandrou was criticised by Certeau (1969) ‘for making too sharp a distinction between learned and popular culture’.

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access to, medical professionals, ensured that the more linear transmission

route of progressive printed text prevailed over the composite domestic

practice. In terms of the domestic botanical culture, reliance on print within

households may be seen to coincide largely with its common demise.

Ehrenrich and Weber’s examination of male versus female authorities

may be viewed here in terms of a professional versus domestic authority

whereby female authors disseminating within the public sphere may be viewed

as professionals asserting an elite authority as well as adopting a masculine

voice.53 For example, Weber notes that both Sarah Jinner and Mary Holden

considered themselves ‘students’ of medicine, equating this to the current

concept of ‘scholar’. 54 In many ways this assertion of authority harks back to

earlier female claims to personal association with elite masculine knowledge

and status, as well as presaging female practitioners to come. There exists

substantial evidence supporting this comparative model.55 And there is no doubt

that Early Modern and Colonial cultural norms dictated a substantial, and

meaningful, difference between the professional practice of physicians and the

domestic practice to be found in most homes of the period, as do our own

cultural norms. Indeed, there is a typical social assumption in the medical

traditions of western Europe and the European Americas that professional

53 A.S. Weber, ‘Women’s Early Modern Medical Almanacs in Historical Context’, English Literary Renaissance, (Oxford: Blackwell, 2003), p.359. 54 Sarah Jinner, An Almanack for the Year of Our Lord God 1664, (London, 1664), fol.B6v; Mary Holden, The Womans Almanack for the Year of Our Lord 1688 (London: 1688), part 2, fol.A5 as cited in A.S. Weber, ‘Women’s Early Modern Medical Almanacs in Historical Context’, IBID p. 363. 55 A.S. Weber, IBID, p. 374. Weber cites Dorothy Meads’ account of Elizabeth Grey’s practice, Pollock’s work on Mildmay, and Leong’s consideration of Freke, so much so that Weber applauds Elizabeth Grey as being ‘widely noted for her skill as a physician and apothecary’ before stating of Mildmay that she practiced ‘far beyond the kitchen physick of her day and in fact was an extremely knowledgeable practicing physician’.

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practice is of a substantially more skilled and demanding nature than that of the

domestic practice. This assumption may be seen in writings across the period.

For example, James I’s tirade against empirical physick may be read as an

altogether typical ‘popular’ expression of dismissal towards the untutored

practice of medicine, with its clear association with women and women’s

medical practice: ‘I pray you, what foolish boy, what sillie wench, what olde

doting wife, or ignorant countrey clowne, is not a physician for the toothache, for

the cholicke, and divers such common diseases’.56 Yet this statement is at

odds with similar messages regarding the role of empirical ‘physic’, the practice

of women, and non theoretical medicine in the public sphere. Allowing the elite

voice of James I to represent at least something of what we currently know of

‘popular’ culture, that is to say, of sentiment expressed and espoused in the

public sphere, we might equally look to the public messages of other public

figures, on both sides of the Atlantic. Indeed, public antidotes to James’

seventeenth-century tirade against unlearned, empiric medicine as

administered by any one ‘sillie wench’ or ‘doting wife’ may be traced back to

Henry VIII’s ‘Quack’s Charter’ of the sixteenth-century where the rights of

‘every Person … having Knowledge and Experience of the Nature of Herbs,

Roots, and Waters, or of the Operation of the same’ to practice medicine are

enshrined in law, or, indeed, equally seen in the eighteenth-century gentle

approbation to be found in personal letters and journals such as those of John

Adams and family.57 Clearly appreciation for the ‘little’ tradition of empiric

medicine generally, and its use by women specifically, provoked a range of

56 James I, ‘A Counter-Blaste to Tobacco’, (London, 1604), as cited by Adam Fox, Op.cit., p.180. 57 Henry the VIII, The Herbalist's Charter, 1543.

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emotion; what is of little doubt is that this provisioning was both common and

commonly consulted.

Jan Vansina’s adaptation of an anthropological approach to oral culture

considers the ‘esoteric’, or informed (possibly ‘learned’, though this would not

necessarily include or imply bookish study), nature of successful oral

transmission. This may almost be interpreted as arguing for an elitist role within

the domestic sphere, whereby specialist medical knowledge is held and

transmitted by a particular individual or individuals, ‘either by training people to

whom the tradition is then entrusted, or by exercising some form of control over

each recital of the tradition’.58 Vansina differentiates between oral culture or

‘tradition’, and the simple, ordinary, everyday oral transmission of information.

Here, the definition for an oral culture consists of ‘verbal messages which are

reported statements from the past beyond the present generation’ with an

emphasis that ‘there must be transmission by word of mouth over at least a

generation’.59 In some ways, what Vansina is describing here is different from

an oral ‘history’, that is to say, a narrative retelling of how things were

transmitted across generations, though oral histories may well be an example of

oral traditions, or cultures. Indeed, the oral instruction passing on specific

technical and practical knowledge (agricultural, culinary, or in this case, relating

to the production and use of botanical medicines) does not reflect the traditional

‘history’ of a people as such, looking at the events and circumstances

experienced by them, but rather reflects their practice, and thus tells us

something of how they experienced and moulded their lives. Indeed, Vansina

58 Jan Vansina, Op.Cit.,p.31. 59 IBID, p. 28.

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addresses this, pointing to J.C.Miller’s restrictive definition of oral traditions as

those which relate solely to ‘conscious historical statements; [whereby] the

person who tells them wants to communicate the past to us’ commenting

instead that ‘much can be learned from the past from oral sources that are not

concerned with the past and hence testify despite themselves’.60

Vansina clearly distinguishes between oral and written evidence as

entirely separate entities, noting that our awareness, and understanding, of oral

traditions is entirely based on their ‘reported’ nature. While current work in

anthropology, sociology, and oral history may well have access to actual oral

testimony, historians concerned with the examination of more distant periods

are reliant on textual versions of ‘reported statements’, thus blurring the line

between oral and written source. Peter Burke addresses the impossibility of

direct extraction of oral testimony for many historians, comparing it to the

relatively easier, and more rewarding, solicitation of modern historians: ‘the

information we possess on the techniques of divining and folk-medicine in

France or Norway or Yugoslavia is incomparably more detailed for the twentieth

century than for earlier periods’.61 Burke further notes that our methodology may

be, in part, at fault, writing that ‘historians whose sources consist of fragmentary

texts have a lot to learn from folklorists and anthropologists whose sources are

living people, who can be observed at work and even questioned’. On first

reading, this passage seems to fail to recognize and address the initial point

that historians, in researching the past, do not typically have access to actual

voices, but it may actually simply be suggesting a more lateral, generous

60 J.C. Miller, ‘Listening’, pp.35-39 as cited by Jan Vansina, IBID, p.28. 61 Peter Burke, Op.cit., p.125.

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reading of what evidence we do have. Although we cannot audibly reconstruct

the Early Modern domestic voice, we can perhaps borrow on the methodology

of the social sciences to build an approximation of same by combining existing

current oral testimony of domestic practice and usage with period-derived

textual sources. For example, Carole Counihan notes that what we know of

culinary recipe exchange illustrates the complexity, both of the female social

transmission systems in play here, but also between individuals and groups, as

well as oral and written dissemination more broadly. She writes that

in the social interaction that characterizes these … families, women verbally exchange recipes with one another across regional boundaries and are eager to experiment with them. The oral exchange of recipes is, from the technical point of view, the elementary process that underlies the production …of cookbooks. In many of the introductions to these cookbooks, the authors thank women they have known in various metropolitan contexts for sharing recipes and skills.62

Devolving from the initial, largely amorphous, nature of oral transmission,

recipes printed in cookbooks, or written in Early Modern manuscripts,

themselves become the subject for further exchange amongst women, both

verbally and via correspondence. The anthropological approach which allows

for a reasonable assumption of the continuance of practice based on

extrapolation that what we currently see in terms of domestic exchange and

transmission of recipes also reflects historical domestic practice.

Further, a close reading of cultural works produced by, and largely

reflecting, a period provides clues to its oral traditions. Kate Giglio’s work

examining Spenser’s portrayal of sixteenth-century female medical

practitioners, for example, hints at the oral nature of feminine practice. Both

62 Counihan & Van Esterik, Op.cit., p.292.

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Giglio’s concern with Spenser’s ‘fluctuating opinion of admiration and derision

[towards the] oral tradition of medicine and its female practitioners’ and the very

fact that Spenser chronicles this particular phenomenon are of interest here.63

Equally, the role of women and women’s role in delivering medicine, and its

basis in oral transmission, was both noted, and commented upon, in the learned

masculine medical literature of the period. For example, Gerard’s Herball

(largely produced for a domestic audience), warns of heeding information

originating from ‘old wives’, while Parkinson wrote that

Many idle tales have been set down in writing, and delivered also by report,… and have been tolerated by the Chief magistrates … notwithstanding that they have been informed that such practices were mere deceit and insufferable.64

Adam Fox also notes both that oral transmission of medical knowledge was

widely acknowledged by popular culture in the Early Modern period, and that it

was treated in this mixed fashion: being equally assimilated and denigrated by

male authors.65 For example, John Aubrey writes of how

old customes, and old wives fables are gross things: but yet ought not to be quite rejected: there may some truth and usefulnese be elicited out of them: besides ‘tis a pleasure to consider the errours that enveloped former ages: as also the present.66

Moreover, Aubrey’s account allows us to reconstruct the process of oral

transmission via direct textual accounts. Not only did Aubrey write very

specifically about oral traditions and their possible value, but also he clearly had

a particular interest in female narratives. Robert Boyle noted Aubrey’s

63 Kate Giglio, ‘Female Orality and the Healing Arts in Spenser’s Mother Hubberds Tale’, Chapter 2, Mary Ellen Lamb, & Karen Bamford, Oral traditions and gender in early modern literary texts p.13. 64 Gerard, Herball, p.280, cited by Giglio, p.14; Parkinson on the Mandrake root, Paradisi in Sole Paradisus Terrestris as cited in Parkinson, Nature’s Alchemist, p.38. 65 See Fox, ‘Old Wives’ Tales and Nursery Lore, Cht.3, Oral and Literate Culture, pp.173-212. 66 John Aubrey, ‘Remaines of Gentilisme and Judaisme’, BL, Lansdowne.ms.231, fol.103r, as cited in Fox, Oral and Literate Culture, p.173.

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confession that he ‘not disdain to learn from ignorant old women’, and, as with

other Early Modern male authors, Aubrey’s mixed attitude towards these female

sources is notable, and complex. 67 He writes of one possible pathway of

transmission, originating in this instance from a learned male domain of

knowledge:

& no question many fryars (whose names & many of theire inventions are buryed in oblivion) found out many good medicines, which they did communicate to theire friends & Penitents (especially the good women) whose Daughters have handed downe many to this age, that doe admirable cures.68

Fox writes further of how in the Early Modern period the ‘environment all around

us was also the source of an immense amount of medical lore with which it was

expected that every housewife would be conversant and pass on to her

daughters’.69 Clearly the role which oral transmission played in the

dissemination of knowledge and skill, for example, in the understanding and

making of domestic medicines, is intimately tied up with a question of

‘expectations’, or Early Modern concepts of social duty, as well as with the

larger idea of a shared communal knowledge transmitted via ‘lore’, a concept

which has been developed by Carol Counihan in her examination of culinary

recipes.70

Counihan again employs methodology whereby a practice is inferred on

a like for like basis between similar social groups, and speaks further of the

‘concrete context’ of oral transmission which stresses ‘the relation of teacher to

67 Boyle vi, 544 as cited in Dragstra, p.41. 68 Attributed to Aubrey’s lost work, Adversaria Physica in Robert Plot’s Analecta, cited by Henk Dragstra ‘Before Woomen were Readers’, p. 42. 69 Adam Fox, Op.cit., p.183. 70 IBID, ‘the environment all around was also the source of an immense amount of medical lore with which it was expected that every housewife would be conversant and pass on to her daughters’.

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pupil, e.g. of mother to daughter ... for oral learning tends to reduplicate the

“initial situation”, the process of socialization’. Undoubtedly this familial

transmission commonly occurred in homes across the social and geographical

strata, at least to some extent, bringing us back to Adam Fox’s comment that

‘every housewife would be conversant with the knowledge and use of botanical

medicines, and would also further transfer this information on to her

daughters’.71 In this regard, instructing young women as to the preparation and

use of botanicals would have been a vital part of the process tied to learning

how to ‘manage’ (elite and middling sort families) or ‘keep’ (middle to labouring

households) a home throughout the Early Modern period, and this instruction

would have continued to be implemented primarily via oral means, in the

garden, the kitchen, and the sickroom. Indeed, John Aubrey referred to this

particular route of information as part of a larger train of transmission in his

Wiltshire Antiquities, where he notes the specific transference of stories ‘derived

downe from mother to daughter’ in his Natural History and Antiquities of the

County of Surrey.72 Fox also notes that Early Modern women were ‘frequently

custodians of family history and were responsible for its transmission’, as they

undoubtedly were of the family’s domestic knowledge and practice.73 This role

of mother/ daughter, familial transmission is noted by numerous authors in

numerous texts. The oral nature of transmission here is clearly a female one,

relating back to the female sphere of domestic agency which first produced the

domestic botanical culture.

71 Carole Counihan, Op.cit.; Adam Fox,.Op. cit., p.183. 72 John Aubrey, The Natural History & Antiquities of the County of Surrey; Begun in the year 1673 (5 Vols, London, 1718-19), iii, 366-67 as cited by Adam Fox, Oral & Literate Culture in England 1500-1700, p.180. 73 Fox, Op.cit., p.190.

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Referring back to Burke’s idea of the ‘great tradition’ and the ‘little

tradition’, Counihan’s consideration of the history of cooking looks at this

division of traditions in light of geographical, specifically ‘urban versus rural’,

necessities while Barry Reay describes the primary social categories in terms of

economic divisions, using the terms ‘respectable’ and ‘rough’ to refer to the

middle class professions and the labouring classes.74 For Counihan, there is a

clear urban versus rural divide:

literate cooking is constraining (if one follows the book) … partly because, as in the case above, it often provides instruction (“programmed learning!”) for individuals who do not themselves know how to prepare the dishes. In the town, where children spend a large part of their time at school and are not required to make a great contribution to the house or garden, individuals often learn cooking indirectly from books rather than directly from the familial setting. Such a process necessitates “following a (written) recipe”, rather than learning by participation i.e. by oral means.75

The possible dualistic nature of oral versus scribal cultures at the end of the

middle ages and beginning of the Early Modern period, lends itself to very

particular, and interesting, implications where botanicals are concerned. Reay

writes of Keith Thomas’ work looking at rural populations that

the agricultural workers of our [the Early Modern] period had a large vocabulary which enabled them to draw subtle distinctions between various kinds of flora and fauna. They had a detailed knowledge of the natural world – often highly localised – which could be handed on from generation to generation. There were, for example, some fifty different names for the marsh marigold.76

There is a real relationship between rural peoples and the plants which they

employ: so much so that the Early Modern mind often perceived a connection

74 Barry Reay, Popular Culture in Seventeenth Century England, Op.cit., p.12. 75 Carole Counihan& Penny Van Esterik eds., Food and culture: a reader, Op.cit., p.88. 76 Keith Thomas, Man and the natural world: changing attitudes in England, 1500-1800, (Oxford University Press, 1996) as cited in Barry Reay, Popular Culture in Seventeenth Century England, Op.cit., p.5.

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between the two. Aubrey writes of this relationship between local diet, including

indigenous dietary herbs, and character:

In North Wiltshire, and like the vale of Gloucestershire (a dirty clayey country) the Indigense, or Aborigines, speake drawling; they are phlegmatique, skins pale and livid, slow and dull, heavy of spirit: hereabout is but little, tillage or hard labour, they only milk the cowes and make cheese; they feed chiefly on milke meates, which cooles their braines too much, and hurts their inventions. These circumstances make them melancholy, contemplative, and malicious; by consequence whereof come more law suites out of North Wilts, at least double to the Southern Parts. And by the same reason they are generally more apt to be fanatiques: their persons are generally plump and feggy: gallipot eies, and some black: but they are generally handsome enough. It is a woodsere country, abounding much with sowre and austere plants, as sorrel, &c. which makes their humours sowre, and fixes their spirits.77

Of course sorrel and other ‘sowre and austere’ plants are by no means confined

to Wiltshire (indeed wood sorrel may be found across all of England); rather it is

Aubrey’s association of it and its consumption which is interesting here. Further

scholarship examining the role of locale on perception, understanding, and

usage of botanicals is needed, for it is entirely possible that there are real

differences to be uncovered here, particularly in terms of transmission with a

greater reliance on simple oral dissemination to be found in rural, labouring

households, and an increasingly complex form of bricolage embraced by urban,

middle class households. Here Aubrey’s fusty ‘Aborigines’ might well represent

a sort of little tradition within the greater ‘little tradition’ of domestic practice as a

whole.

This association of rural and urban with little and grand traditions is one

of many readings of the subaltern practice in relation to the prevailing culture,

77 John Aubrey, Introductory Chapter, ‘Chorographia’, The Wiltshire Antiquities, or The Natural History of Wiltshire, c.1695.

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however. Equal to geographically defined social groupings are chronological,

gendered, and status derived parallels, suggesting that a dualistic reading of

Early Modern society (and transmission) is overly simplistic. John Ray wrote in

the introductory letter addressed to John Aubrey at the beginning of the latter’s

The Wiltshire Antiquities: ‘Neither is yr observation universally true that the sons

of labourers and rusticks are more dull and indocile than those of gentlemen

and tradesmen’, clearly indicating that for some, at least, there was a

recognition that intelligence and ‘wit’ were not the sole province of any one

social group or peoples.78 While Aubrey may lay himself open to criticism by his

peers for his dismissive and patronizing attitude towards ‘yokels’, he is by no

means unaware of the value and role of transcribing oral traditions, writing that

‘I know that some will nauseate these old fables: but I doe profess, to regard

them as the most considerable pieces of Antiquity, I collect: and … that they are

to be registered for Posterity’.79 Further, although Aubrey ostensibly places

women: their relationships, networks, and transmission of knowledge, that

which is ‘derived downe from mother to daughter’, alongside ‘fusty Aboriginals’

and ‘yokels’, he also speaks of their knowledge of ‘many good medicines’.80

That Aubrey perceives a rich complexity here between unlearned women,

provincial knowledge of botanicals, and the richness of inherited wisdom and

practice, is clear.

Learned and Lay Practices: Medical Cultures of the Home.

78 John Aubrey, IBID. 79 John Aubrey, Monumenta i, 66 as cited by Dragstra ‘Before Woomen were Readers’, IBID. 80 James I, ‘A Counter-Blaste to Tobacco’, as cited by Adam Fox, Oral & Literature Culture in England, Op.Cit.; John Aubrey’, Adversaria Physica cited by Dragstra, ‘Before Woomen were Readers’, Op.Cit.

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Much of current historiography in the field of domestic medicine focuses

on the assimilation of elite medical theory and knowledge by some lay

householders. What has yet to be considered and discussed in the same depth

is the more elusive social history surrounding a non-elitist, unprofessional,

largely non theoretical domestic knowledge, one which does not reflect back on

the intellectual theories of the day. In part, the lack of scholarship relevant to

the domestic practice reflects pragmatic concerns. As is the case with

academic inquiry focusing on thought and practice within the domestic sphere

more generally, what evidence we have is by its nature more isolated, private,

and difficult to discover than learned practice, theory, and writings, and in many

instances, possibly no longer extant at all. Pollock has touched on this, writing

that ‘Galenic, Paracelsian and astrological medicine were all ‘book’ systems’

while

… in practice the most significant influence on medical practice was likely to be folklore, passed on down the centuries from generation to generation. This consisted of long-established common-sense remedies gained from experience in treating the sick, knowledge of plants and herbs, and ritual healing.81

Indeed, both the anecdotal knowledge contained within ‘folklore’, and the

empirical knowledge of ‘experience’, produce little concrete evidence; and the

means of ingress into any non theoretical practice and its dissemination often

prove elusive. Those channels employed by domestic botanical culture were

likely to have been poorly catalogued, oftentimes oral or scribal in nature, and

largely private and individual, making consistent evidence of its transmission

more difficult to find and interpret than that reflecting learned practice..

81 Linda Pollock, With Faith in Physic, Op.cit. p.96.

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Porter also referred to a certain degree of bias on the part of historians,

writing that ‘academics have traditionally made ‘learned medicine’ or ‘scientific

medicine’ their study’ before going on to state how

common sense suggests that the elements indispensable to the enterprise of medical popularisation are a body of authorized medicine; doctors or writers eager to undertake the work of spreading it; a medium of diffusion, be it printed book, flysheet, handbill, pamphlet, or newspaper column; and finally, a literate audience keen, prepared, or possibly compelled to imbibe such publications.82

A number of assumptions are being made here, not least that what was

accepted as ‘medical practice’ by the majority of people throughout the Early

Modern period consisted of a regular, elitist form of medicine, and that the

movement towards ‘popularisation’ which gathers momentum and force over

the period is driven largely by this ‘intellectual’ medical practice. If this is the

case, then there may well be little need to, or indeed interest in, examining

medical practices outside of this authoritative medium. Yet non-authoritative

practice, particularly a widespread, common, and relatively successful domestic

practice, also played a role in later medical popularisation, and the thesis

examines transmission theories associated with oral, scribal, and print cultures

in the hopes of redressing the current imbalance in the literature.

Intellectual history may be seen as belonging to the people and culture of

a period, and its transmission and dissemination may be indicative of that

society’s infrastructure, not only of its strata, but also in terms of the material

culture providing a foundation for it. Examples of this range from educational

systems providing individuals with the means to receive and communicate

82 Roy Porter, The Popularization of Medicine, 1650-1850, (Routledge: London, 1992), pp.1,3.

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complex thought, through courier systems capable of moving correspondence

from one individual to another, to means of mass producing, storing, and

disseminating information (scribes or presses, libraries, schools). It could be

argued that those practices which occurred in private households, however,

may be equally indicative of a society’s perception of itself and its individual

members, as well as providing important information regarding supply and

demand, provision and reception of both practice and goods. Scholars have

provided convincing arguments for the demand and supply which predicates a

necessary domestic medical provision across the breadth of the long Early

Modern period, based equally on demographic and geographical consideration

as well as manuscript evidence of actual practice.83 If this domestic practice

was not only widespread, but indeed likely to have been virtually universal, and

if there are consistent, common threads in its practice and dissemination across

both the geographical and chronological fields, it becomes evident that that

practice must have played an important role in the social perceptions and

practices surrounding both medicines and ‘the medical’ more generally, even to

the extent that the lay practice may claim to have influenced the intellectual and

professional.

83 A number of authors have examined this in depth, notably Doreen Evedon Nagy, Margaret Pelling, Lois Magner and Roy Porter. Nagy, in particular, examines the impact of geography and economics on early modern popular medicine in detail in the first two chapters of her Popular Medicine in Seventeenth-Century England. Pelling, Magner and Porter use the demographic statistics to build a highly complex picture of early modern medical provision in general, including not only that of the domestic practitioners and of physicians, but also of a range of professional and other commercial providers (barber surgeons, apothecaries, herbalists, etc.). Evedon Nagy, ’Lay & learned medicine in early modern England’, Health, disease and society in Europe 1500-1800 p.43.Margaret Pelling, ’Medicine: trade or profession?’ Health, disease and society in Europe 1500–1800, pp.32, 25; Lois N. Magner, A History of Medicine, (NY: Marcel Dekker, 1992), pp.217-218; Roy Porter, Disease, medicine and society in England, pp.11 & 14.

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Typically, historians have viewed Early Modern and Colonial botanicals

and botanical prescribing as a largely homogeneous entity, with differences

really only occurring between the bigger, well documented, and contentious

differences in elite theory and doctrine.84 On closer examination, however, we

see substantial differences between female, domestic and male, professional

prescribing in terms of what agents are listed and employed within their

respective materia medica, with these differences clearly reflecting greater

differences in the medical cultures as a whole. This is particularly true in terms

of the underlying rationale for prescribing medicines, as well as in the medical

canon employed. In the first instance, domestic prescribing tended to be based

on a common, inherited, anecdotal basis which was then augmented by the

practitioner’s empirical observations and experience in treating patients,

whereas the learned medical model typically referred back to either humoral or

astrological theory. Direct comparisons between theoretical learned writing and

non theoretical domestic prescribing between learned and domestic sources,

and across the span of time in question, bear this out. For example, the 1621

definition of ‘diacodion’ in the medically authored An English Expositor contains

only the most basic of information about the preparation’s makeup and

production, being primarily concerned with the medicine’s humoral nature:

‘Diacodion. A cold sirupe made of the tops of poppies, vsed in phisicke

sometime against hote diseases, and to stay the falling downe of humours out

of the head’.85 In comparison, Mary Faussett’s later recipe for ‘Surup of

84 As is considered, for example, in Rebecca Tannenbaum’s analysis of recipes from Dr Palmer’s and the Brigham manuscripts, below. Rebecca J. Tannenbaum, The Healer’s Calling, Women and Medicine in Early New England, (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2002), p.7-8. 85 B. J., (John Bullokar) Doctor of Physicke, An English Expositor: Teaching the interpretation of the hardest words vsed in our Language. With sundry explications, Descriptions, and Discourses, (London: 1621).

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dicrordiam’ written in either the late-eighteenth or very early-nineteenth century,

England, contains information relating to preparation, dosage, diagnostic use,

and shelf life:

Surup of diacodiam Take 3 ounces of black popy heads or 4 of white bruse ym & put to ym 3 pints of boyling water yn strain it of & add 3 pound of 8 peny sugar, let it boyle abotte an hower & it will be a pretty thick surup, for a child in ye mouth a large tea spoonful, & for one of 3 or 4 years old a childs spoonful, for a woman grown 2 large spoon=fulls given att night when they goe to bed its good to be given when children are bad with breeking of teeth or for any little fever but not soe proper in a violent one … [you must] let your popys infuse 3 days after you have put the water to yt firing it severall times a day, this diacodiam will keep 7 year.86

While the Expositor’s definition is not ostensibly intended to be read as a

medical treatise per se, it clearly places the botanical within a humoral context

and framework. Faussett’s recipe, on the other hand, provides a wealth of

information, showing both diagnostic and prescribing differentiation as well as

preparation skills and familiarity with issues surrounding storage, longevity and

remedy effectiveness, all without any reference at all to a theoretical model.

This is a working, practical receipt based on anecdotal and empirical evidence

and experience as opposed to the theoretical content seen in the Expositor, and

typical of learned sources generally. Moreover, the theoretical context of the

Expositor is authoritative and directive in tone, while the domestic remedy is

conversational and intimate. The first reflects the overarching authority typical of

printed sources, the second reflects the domestic culture’s oral foundations.

Further, the ingredients of professional and domestic remedies may

differ, reflecting different modes of transmission. ‘Learned’ recipes often reflect

the latest thinking in prevailing professional practice, and are quick (or quicker)

86 WL.ms.7999, Heppington Receipt Books, Vol.2, p.205.

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to pick up on theoretical and practical changes communicated through

contemporary print. For example, the list of ingredients typically to be found in

the learned canon includes far more chemical and animal products and recipes

than seen in the domestic receipt books. Non-botanical ingredients are

regularly prescribed and advocated by medical practitioners, often in distressing

combinations and unhealthy doses, as seen, for example, in a Dr Thomas

Palmer’s recipe cited in Rebecca Tannenbaum’s The Healer’s Calling, which is

based on the topical use of white lead.87 This is not to suggest that domestic

authors never used either, indeed there are numerous examples of snails,

toads, swallows and earthworms, not to mention various forms of lead and

mercury, in domestic sources. However, these ingredients appear in a very

small number of receipts, within a minority of the domestic manuscripts: they

are atypical and non-representative of remedial agents in domestic use.

Dr Palmer’s lead-based recipe is of interest as Tannenbaum compares it

directly to a domestic recipe from the medical receipts of the Brigham family of

Massachusetts, concluding that the two are largely like for like with the

exception of the Doctor’s learned embrace of Paracelsian prescribing:

Take a pounde of boares grease 8 handfulls of Sage, a pounde of fresh butter, chope ye sage small, & set all on ye fire, with 4 ounces of wax & let boyle … [Brigham receipt]

… Rx. Fresh butter, oyl of roses, of each 1 oz … [and] white lead, washed, grind them in a mortar for an unguent. If ye pain be vehement, take the yolk of an egg, oyle of roses, Juice of poppy or henbane. [Dr Palmer’s recipe]

87 Rebecca J. Tannenbaum, The Healer’s Calling, Women and Medicine in Early New England, (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2002), p.7-8.

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Both recipes use herbs, and both make ointments out of household ingredients like butter and eggs. Palmer’s recipe calls for lead, showing a familiarity with Paracelsian medicine that the Brighams did not have. Other than that, the recipes are very similar.88

Tannenbaum’s reference to ‘Paracelsian prescribing’ refers specifically to the

inclusion of white lead, and infers that the primary difference between

professional, learned, medical practice and lay, domestic, medicine lies in the

willingness of the latter to embrace chemical agents as medicines. While this

difference is indeed key (and altogether typical of learned versus lay

prescribing), there are substantial, and important, differences in each remedy’s

choice of herbs. The lead-free, Brigham recipe uses a simple compound

ointment of sage, which is strongly astringent, while the Palmer recipe

combines lead with rose, a carminative relaxant, as well as calling for the

narcotics, poppy and henbane. When applied topically, the sage-based

Brigham ointment might be expected to bind weeping tissues and reduce

inflammation, and would be particularly indicated for the treatment of wounds. It

is a fairly innocuous botanical preparation with no likely side-effects. The more

complex rose, poppy, henbane, lead ointment, on the other hand, has clear

relaxant, analgesic properties relevant ‘if ye pain be vehement’, but unlike the

Brigham recipe the Palmer ointment is potentially dangerous: while the butter

and rose oil are entirely safe agents, the lead, poppy, and henbane are not.

External exposure to lead produces heavy metal poisoning affecting virtually all

internal organs as well as bone and nervous system development and growth,

while both the poppy and henbane are strong, potentially addictive, plants, and

88 IBID. The first of these recipes: AAS.ms.Folio Vols.B.271275. Brigham Family Papers, Folder Five, Charles Brigham Account Book, 1650-1730, Worcester, Mass. The second of these recipes: Palmer, Thomas Admirable Secrets of Physick and Chyrurgery, ed. Thomas Rogers Forbes (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1984), p.130.

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both, in quantity, possess narcotic qualities which in large enough doses are

capable of relaxing smooth muscle to the point of arresting cardiac contraction.

Indeed, contrary to Tannenbaum’s analysis, apart from the fact that both

recipes are for ointments and contain ingredients of plant origin, they are

entirely different. Palmer’s lead and narcotic based ointment clearly illustrates

that learned practitioners were not only more likely to use non-botanical

ingredients in their medicines than were women in the home, but they were also

more likely to use plants with extreme, and potentially dangerous, effects. Nor is

Palmer’s recipe an unusual example of learned prescribing. On the contrary,

virtually all learned texts (with the exception of the herbals) show evidence of

Paracelsian prescribing, with numerous recipes combining plant and heavy

metal ingredients, and while there are certainly domestic practitioners using

non-botanical ingredients, including lead products, these are relatively rare and

not representative of the majority of domestic remedies, or indeed, the majority

of domestic authors. This reflect back on the nature of transmission between

cultures: the learned practice is more concerned with questions surrounding

advancement of knowledge and practice, and is relatively quick to embrace new

remedial agents which are perceived to be powerful and effective, while the

domestic culture more steadily reflects inherited practices, domestic resources,

and the individual practitioner’s perception of efficacy.

Oral in Scribal Cultures

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In a letter to her son, Anthony, Anne Bacon writes regarding his brother’s

gout, noting how ‘your brother nich towlde my cousin kempe as he lately towld

me that one tyme at the end of his gowt’, neatly demonstrating not only a scribal

culture of maternal instruction, but the busy oral communications preceding,

and couched within, it.89 Bacon is clearly concerned for those whom she

perceives to be within her sphere of care, admonishing Anthony further to ‘take

hede I pray yow how yow do all your phisick practises’, and in another letter, ‘do

what you can to expel the gowt by diet & seasonable sleeping use not your self

to be twanged a slepe but naturally it wyll grow into a tedious custome & hinder

yow much’.90 That Bacon speaks to her sons, as well as writing to them

frequently with her great store of maternal advice, is documented within the

letters themselves: the oral giving birth to the scribal, and evidence of domestic

medical concern in each. And evidence of the ‘oral in the scribal’ is not limited

to epistolary sources; indeed, an American ‘oralicity’ derived from scribal

sources is as complex as the inherited practice and transmission routes

witnessed in these epistolary sources.91 For example, Elizabeth Coates

Paschall of eighteenth-century Philadelphia regularly attributes remedies to

friends, including one ‘For a Fellon’ given to her by ‘Susannah Fowler an old

Acquaintance of mine from her Childhood & a person of Good Reputation’. Yet

89 LPL.ms.653 fol. 362: Lady Anne Bacon to Anthony Bacon, n.d. 90 LPL.ms.651 fol. 206: Lady Anne Bacon to Anthony Bacon, 16 June 1595. The business of mothers offering medical advice to kin is not confined solely to Bacon, though her efforts have been well catalogued: Brilliana Harley, Lady Grace Mildmay, and Lady Horrington have all also left epistolatory evidence of maternal medical advice, as noted in several papers delivered at the 2011 Cultures of Correspondence Conference, Plymouth. Of particular note was Johanna Harris’ examination of Brilliana Harley’s advice in ‘The Material Letter: Lady Brilliana Harley and the Literature of Advice’, Gemma Allen and Katy Mair’s consideration of Anne Bacon’s authority in ‘Women as Counsellors in Sixteenth-Century England: The Letters of Lady Anne Bacon and Lady Elizabeth Russell’ and ‘Material lies: parental anxiety and epistolary practice in the correspondence of Anne Lady Bacon and Anthony Bacon’ respectively. 91 Attribution and the relationship between ‘learned’ and ‘lay’ knowledge, in both English and colonial manuscripts, is more widely considered in chapter three.

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she also clearly identifies more complex routes of oral transmission, writing that

she

was Informed By a High German who had a Nail Run rite through his hand … whereof I Saw which was perfectly well. Except the streak. that the accident hapned butt three Days before which Made me verry Inquisitive about the Cure. Because he was his own Docter, Said that he applied no Other Medicine Butte the one out of his own. 92

For each of these domestic authors, the implication of an intimate oral

exchange is either specified or implied. Indeed, their written work, and its value,

is largely predicated by an implied association with its oral association: these

are communal and communally recognized and accepted remedies, as ‘proven’

by their association with verbal exchange.

Early modern English and Colonial American domestic botanical culture

was largely a feminine ‘little’ tradition running concurrently alongside the well-

studied ‘great’ tradition of learned medical practice. It was derived from, and

expressed via, a complex transmission network, with its roots firmly anchored in

oral traditions. Its basic composition may be viewed in terms of ‘bricolage’, with

a number of discrete practices building a larger collective culture. It consisted of

a shared materia medica, which allowed for a great flexibility and

individualization between practitioners and households. It was largely familial,

and entirely couched within individual communities. By employing a range of

methodologies, the thesis has begun the process of establishing domestic

botanical cultures within these oral and familial cultures by extrapolating

concepts from known common practice back onto traditional practice, alongside

reading instances where earlier oral practices are more directly referred to in

92 CP.ms.168289.Class 20e.No.352. Elizabeth Coates Paschall’s Receipt Book (1702-1753), Op.cit., unfoliated. The recipe consisted primarily of rum and ear wax.

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text sources. By introducing the domestic tradition in terms of its ‘bricolage’

nature, and defining it as a little tradition in the context of prevailing professional

practices, while outlining its likely feminine, oral roots, Chapter One has

established a basic framework for a domestic botanical culture. This foundation

is then further explored, and delineated, in terms of its scribal expression and

relationship to printed text in Chapters two and three.

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Chapter 2. Scribal Cultures: Individualization of Communal Practice

This Chapter examines domestic scribal sources as a means of gaining

direct, and meaningful, ingress into how domestic authors and practitioners

employed, shared, and demonstrated knowledge of botanicals, in order to more

fully understand the individualized expression of the communal botanical

practice outlined in Chapter One.93 One aspect of the broader domestic

practice feeding into the botanical culture was a readiness and willingness on

the part of householders to engage with medical matters in general. Indeed, this

engagement predicates their use of botanicals, and as such is a defining, if

silent, aspect of the culture itself. If the domestic botanical culture may be seen

to have had its origins in oral traditions, its practice was commonly expressed in

scribal form, and any full understanding of the culture must therefore refer back

to written sources and their authors. Receipt books play a critical role in

fleshing out our understanding of a domestic botanical culture in that they

constitute the single most substantial body of source material dealing directly

with those botanicals in Early Modern household use. Ancillary scribal sources

such as correspondence and journals supplement this considerable body of

evidence, illustrating the complexity of the knowledge base, its transmission,

and those networks employing it. The question of domestic authority and

agency is also examined here as a means of furthering our understanding of the

unique domestic culture supporting the Anglo-American domestic botanical

culture. The ability of women to cast a critical eye over recipes, appropriate and

adapt preparation instructions, and differentiate in diagnosis, all speaks to the

93 This individualization of the common culture is developed further in chapters four through six.

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personal relationship authors held with the botanicals they employed. Moreover,

receipt books and other forms of household scribal evidence are of value not

only in listing herbs, but in placing them within the context of remedial

preparations and preparation making, illustrating the common uses of botanical

medicines, and illustrating typical formulae found in domestic recipes.

As noted in Chapter One, our knowledge of the domestic botanical

culture is derived primarily from scribal sources, including instances where

medical advice was readily meted out by mothers in correspondence with their

children. Along with Anne Bacon’s instructions to her sons regarding the

treatment of their ‘gowt’, epistolary evidence of maternal medical advice may be

found in the writings of Lady Grace Mildmay, Brilliana Harley, and Lady

Katherine Ranelagh, for example.94 Nor was familial advice by any means

limited solely either to English women, or to that of mother towards child: the

future Presidential wife, Abigail Adams, wrote to her husband on several

occasions with advice. For example, she frets in a letter of March of 1797 that

I have felt very anxious about your cold. I wish you to get a portion of Rhubarb and calomel, and take. If you was to repeat it, in the course of 5 or 6 days it would be of service to you at this season of the year, when you usually require some medicine of that kind, and the more so as you will not so early get your annual ride and which the grevious for the time, was never the less salutary.95

94 Cf. Gemma Allen, ‘Women as Counsellors in Sixteenth-Century England: The Letters of Lady Anne Bacon and Lady Elizabeth Russell’ unpublished paper delivered at the Cultures of Correspondence conference, Plymouth, April 2011; Michelle DiMeo, ‘Medical Authority in Lady Katherine Ranelagh’s Restoration Letters’, delivered as the Cultures of Correspondence conference, Plymouth, April 2011; Johanna Harris, ’The Material Letter: Lady Brilliana Harley and the Literature of Advice‘, unpublished paper delivered at the Cultures of Correspondence conference, Plymouth, April 2011; Katy Mair, ‘Material lies: parental anxiety and epistolary practice in the correspondence of Anne Lady Bacon and Anthony Bacon’ unpublished paper delivered at the Cultures of Correspondence conference, Plymouth, April 2011. 95 MHS.mS.011304, Adams Family Papers, Letter from Abigail Adams to John Adams, 8 - 10 September 1775.

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Clearly Adams felt confident both in her long-distance diagnostic skills (at least

where her husband is concerned) and her prescriptive knowledge. Again, in a

letter dated some twenty two years later, she wrote to John that

I will come however and Nurse you, and submit to any inconvenience. If you do not soon get better, you must get som oxemal squills, and take two Teaspoon full in any tea drink of Hysop or Sage, or Balm at Bed time. Has William escaped a cold.96

While the previous year, John had written to Abigail on Christmas Eve to inform

her during his absence both of his ongoing state of ill-health, and of his attempts

to self remedy, saying that his

health would be no better for your being a witness of any Pains of Acks I might have. I have had recourse to an old medicine, Sulphur, Cream of Tartar and honey which has done me more good than Lockier or Rush. I Sleep well, appetite is good, work hard, Conscience is neat and easy. Content to live and willing to die.97

Personal references to malady and medicine abound in both English and

American correspondence. For example, in 1697 Elizabeth Savage wrote of

their daughter’s ailments from her home in the Virginia settlement to her

husband, Francis Nicolson, travelling in England; ‘ye Little Queen of virginne

has been never free from a Cold since she Came to towne: wch makes me

wishe my self in ye Country againe where I hope to be in March’, while over a

century later, Maria Randolph’s letter written from her home in Williamsburg and

addressed to ‘Betsey’ speaks of how

This wet weather has brought along with it a of evils for me – I am again wrapt in my cloake - & frequently compelled to use

96 MHS,MS.080473, Adams Family Papers, Letter from Abigail Adams to John Adams, 29 March, 1797. 97 MHS MS.080473, Adams Family Papers, Letter from John Adams to Abigail Adams, 25 December, 1798.

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mustard plaister for the rheumatism, other wise, I am much better than I have been since you left me. Total confinement to the house is bad for the spirits, & contrary to my usual practice I am often pacing up & down the room.98

While clearly scribal in nature, these letters follow none of the formal epistolary

conventions which one would expect to see in formal correspondence of the

period, but instead allow for the much more personal, and intimate,

communication extending naturally from a relationship where the participants

are familiar with each other.

In her work with the medical content in Lady Katherine Ranelagh’s

letters, Michelle DiMeo has suggested that the epistolary form of transmission

allowed women a more private form of personal communication than receipt

books; arguing that the latter could be lent or copied, while we might reasonably

suppose that the letter was intended for the recipient’s eyes only.99 One way in

which this theory might be interpreted would lead us to expect to see an

authorial personalization within letters of the more communal knowledge

contained within receipt book manuscripts. Thus the sharing of remedy recipes

in household books both orally and scribally, whether we are considering

discreet individual recipes as is seen in those remedies attributed to named

others, or the copying of a complete corpus of material as occurred with the

posthumous production of three copies of a single ‘medical book’ containing

Lady Grace Mildmay’s medical knowledge, may be seen to grow out of an

ongoing tradition spanning generations and communities, while the letters

98 CWA.ms.86.10, Francis Nicholson Papers, ‘Elizabeth Savage letter to Francis Nicholson, 26 January [1696/7], London; CWA.ms.91.06, Peyton Randolph Papers, Maria Randolph ‘letter to ‘Betsey’, February 27’. 99 Michelle DiMeo, ‘Medical Authority in Lady Katherine Ranelagh’s Restoration Letters’, Op.cit.

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contain information derived from the individual author’s personal empirical

experience of wielding that body of knowledge. Rather than being the

repository of a collective knowledge of practice derived primarily from oral

traditions, letters provided a venue for the individual to demonstrate her mastery

of that knowledge. While DiMeo argues this differentiation in material

transmission effectively in the case of individualized medical knowledge, it is

less likely to apply as easily to knowledge surrounding botanicals and botanical

usage. The question of what constitutes ‘medical theory’ and how that theory is

interpreted in the field is a different one from the question of how to identify

plants, prepare them effectively, and apply them correctly. Instances of the

former abound, not only in Ranelagh’s writing, but also occurring in Mildmay,

Bacon, Harley, and Freke’s letters, although there are fewer instances of

surviving botanical recipes being included alongside the medical advice.100

That this clearly did happen is perhaps best illustrated, as above, by the

ancillary evidence of recipes attributed to secondary authors in the manuscript

books themselves. In answer to this apparent gap in the epistolary

transmission of medical information, DiMeo has further suggested that remedy

recipes might have been included as separate slips, or side-notes, to the main

body of the letter. If so, this is in itself interesting. While it would no doubt

explain why there are so few instances of recipes in those letters well

established within the scholarship to date, it suggests the question of why this

particular material would be so delivered. It may be (if remedies were indeed

100 For examination of early modern women’s medical advice in letters, see Johanna Harris, ‘’The Material Letter: Lady Brilliana Harley and the Literature of Advice’, Op.cit.; Gemma Allen, ‘Women as Counsellors in Sixteenth-Century England: The Letters of Lady Anne Bacon and Lady Elizabeth Russell’ Op.cit.; Katy Mair ‘Material lies: parental anxiety and epistolary practice in the correspondence of Anne Lady Bacon and Anthony Bacon’ , Op.cit. and Michelle DiMeo, IBID, as well as Linda Pollock’s work with Lady Grace Mildmay, and Raymond Anselment’s writing on Elizabeth Freke.

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transmitted in this manner), that the strategy was purely practical: ’separates’

could be easily removed to the kitchen and distillery to be used or copied at will.

On the other hand, a practice of this sort might have further signified a

separation of the practical from the theoretical: working recipe from applied elite

knowledge. In the latter case, letter-writers might have chosen the epistolary

form to showcase their individual apprehension of knowledge and theory, while

the ‘slips’ which served to convey communal knowledge, may be easily peeled

off and taken to back to the working rooms of the house.

Receipt Books

Although letters play an interesting, and perhaps occasionally vital, role

in knowledge transmission, there is no doubt that the vast bulk of information

available to us in relation specifically to householders’ botanical knowledge and

usage is found in the household manuscripts. And while it is possible that these

books were, as DiMeo suggests, capable of being lent and or copied, it is

unlikely that this occurred to any meaningful extent insofar as these were

working books, continually needed on hand in case of ill-health. It is in no way

difficult to imagine the copying out of discrete remedies, either by the owner of

the receipt book, to be sent off to a deserving or needy relative or friend, or by

the hand of that recipient herself whilst sat at the working table of the donor’s

home. It is, however, difficult to imagine allowing this vital repository of

knowledge to stray far from its owner and her kitchen botanicals for any length

of time, as need of the information contained therein could occur at any time.

These manuscript books were not simply pretty samplers of feminine practice,

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nor were they generally ‘presentation’ copies of authoritative text; they were

jobbing works supplementing the oral practice of medicine on a daily basis

within most homes. Catherine Field analyses these domestic recipe books as

an ‘alternative window into the expression of the Early Modern self’, embracing

a genre which was ‘a flexible one, drawing on multiple texts, technologies, and

writers’ which allowed for the authors to draw upon, and relate to, both

‘individual practice and coterie’.101 If we look at ‘practice and profession’ (that

which we do) as expressions of our selves, then these receipt books may be

seen to express both the Early Modern householder, and the larger occurrence

of the Early Modern 'social' self. That is to say, they reflect a norm of Early

Modern domestic behaviour and knowledge.

Margaret Ezell outlines Harold Love’s theory of scribal publication, which

excludes Early Modern women's manuscript recipe volumes as a significant

body of evidence, arguing that, on the contrary, they form a crucial addition to

that ‘group of manuscript materials [Ezell] calls ‘domestic papers’.102 Not only

do they serve as vital artefacts testifying to a specific gendered history, but they

also represent remnants of a broader oral tradition as well. Ezell writes of them

as ‘messy volumes’ which were not written with a public readership in mind, but

rather existed within the private sphere of the home, and shared between

101 Catherine Field, ‘'Many hands hands': Writing the Self in Early Modern Women's Recipe Books’ Chapter 4, Eckerle, Julie A. & Dowd, Michelle M. Genre and women's life writing in early modern England (London: Ashgate Publishing 2007), p.50. 102 Margaret J.M. Ezell, cites Harold Love's Scribal Publications in Seventeenth-Century England in 'Domestic Papers: Manuscript Culture and Early Modern Women's Life Writing' Chapter 3, Eckerle, Julie A. & Dowd, Michelle M. Genre and women's life writing in early modern England (London: Ashgate 2007) pp.54-58.

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familiar individuals.103 Indeed, examples where there is commentary suggest a

certain degree of self-awareness, whether this is intended as a 'note to self' or a

'note to the reader'. In this light, these receipt books contribute not only to our

awareness of Early Modern knowledge and practice, both in abstract medicinal

terms and in relation to domestic and gendered studies, but also they further

contribute to our understanding of domestic social networks, communication,

and information transmission. Likewise, Mary Fissell notes ‘the rich social

networks of interactions that produced the array of recipes inscribed in a single

volume’, and these works may indeed be viewed as ‘settled’ accounts of

complex oral and scribal traditions: post-vocalization, and pre-printed text.104

Alongside the more formal written exchange of domestic information

relating to botanicals, there would have also been informal oral sharing of

knowledge both within, and between, households. This would be particularly

true of those illiterate households where no written records of domestic

medicine existed in any guise, yet where attempts to maintain health and

alleviate illness would have naturally occurred. It remains important to note that

the beginning of the Early Modern period saw a predominantly oral society, with

literacy and familiarity with both script and print restricted to the more elite

echelons of society. However, Fox writes that the ‘oral exchange remained the

primary mode of receiving and transmitting cultural capital for most people’

despite advances in ‘popular literacy and the new technology of print first made

103 Margaret J.M. Ezell, 'Domestic Papers: Manuscript Culture and Early Modern Women's Life Writing' Chapter 3, Eckerle, Julie A. & Dowd, Michelle M. Genre and women's life writing in early modern England London: Ashgate 2007 p.41-42. 104 Mary Fissell, ‘Introduction: Women, Health, and Healing in Early Modern Europe’, Bulletin of The History of Medicine, 2008, 82:1-17, p.9.

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a real impact on society’.105 This differentiation between the oral and the printed

cultures reflects differences also seen in domestic and professional botanical

cultures generally, with a blurring of the cultures accompanying increased

literacy. Moreover, the diffusion of literacy throughout the social classes across

the length and the span considered here seems to be well reflected in those

relatively few surviving domestic manuscripts available. While manuscripts

from the first half of the period examined include a number clearly written by

women from the English aristocracy: Lady Grace Mildmay’s Medicinal papers

(c.1552), Alethea Howard’s Natura exenterate (1585-1654); and Elizabeth Grey,

the Countess of Kent’s A Choice Manval of Rare and Select Secrets in Physick

and Chyrurgery (1653).106

From the early 1700s onwards, the upper and upper middle classes

continue to be well represented, as in the cases of those manuscripts written by

aristocracy, or American social elites such as Martha Washington (daughter of a

plantation owner and wife of the first President of the United States), we also

see a far greater number of manuscripts written by women authors where the

provenance has been lost: we know little about who they were, where they

came from or how they lived.107 This lack of known history itself suggests

105 Adam Fox, Oral & Literate Culture in England 1500-1700, Op.cit., p.12. 106 NRO W/A misc.vol.32-33, 35. Lady Grace Mildmay, Medical Papers, v.32, ff.35r-35v, v.33, ff 40-41; Alethea Howard, Natura exenterate; or Nature unbowelled by the most exquisite anatomizers of her (London, 1655); Elizabeth Grey, Countess of Kent, A choice manual of rare and select secrets in physick and chyrurgery collected and practised by the Right Honorable, the Countesse of Kent, late deceased ; as also most exquisite ways of preserving, conserving, candying, &c. (London, 1653). Instances of aristocratic authorship may be found in several mss, including: BL.Add.ms.56248, Lady Mary Dacres’ Receipt book; BL.S.ms.1367, Lady Ranelagh’s Medical Receipts; FSL.a.940, Lady Grace Castleton’s Receipt book and; NLS.ms.W3031, Lady Anne Elcho & Jane Wemyss’s Receipt book. 107 Anonymous works in Wellcome, as well as the myriad of works in all of the archives where the name, and occasionally date, inscribed inside the front cover are the only authorial

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perhaps the sort of anonymity synonymous with a lack of elitist importance.

These women’s lives were not chronicled either publically by the popular culture

of the period, or by subsequent historians; nor were they commonly or

frequently recommended by their own hand in a manner which was valued and

preserved by their own families and communities. In some ways, the majority of

these later manuscripts may be seen to truly represent common practice in

every home, their authors everywoman.

These domestic works may very well be seen to not only represent a

shared, inherited, and communal transmission within the private sphere of the

household, but one which carried on long after public oral traditions had been

largely replaced by text. Indeed, there is a clear continuity of practice traced

within household transmission with similar recipes (in terms of their format,

botanical content, and ailments addressed) across the whole of the

chronological time span.108 Several manuscripts are written in numerous hands,

virtually all of them acknowledge others’ contributions, and there is a clear

shared canon of herbs and herbal practices across all of the domestic

manuscripts. As such, the manuscripts may be read as a single body

representing a complex organization of Early Modern household knowledge and

skill appertaining to the whole of the domestic culture. Thus, while public,

‘masculine’ forms of transmission were rapidly changing, the domestic,

‘feminine’, culture and transmission routes may be seen to have adapted much

more slowly and organically.

information we have, attest to this – these works were produced in ‘everyman’ or ‘everywoman’s’ household. 108 Examples of this continuity and its individualized expression are looked at in detail in chapters five and six.

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Sara Pennell writes of ‘recipe compilation volumes’ representing what

she terms a ‘gendered knowledge form’. She also notes, however, that the

Early Modern ‘household compilation is certainly an amorphous creature, born

of the many varieties of manuscript writing - verse miscellanies, table books,

adversaria’.109 Even the seemingly unambiguous term ‘recipe book’ can

mislead us about a manuscript's contents, implying that it was a handwritten

repository of directions for concocting combinations of meats, plants, herbs, and

liquids, whether for ‘the good of man or beast or both’.110 There is perhaps a

degree of prevarication here as the vast majority of receipt books clearly focus

on providing recipes for human consumption, and in the case of those receipts

which are medical in nature there is a clear intention of specific remedial action

directed towards clearly defined human ailments. Ezell argues, however, that

there is a distinct and substantial difference between the recipes found in

domestic manuscripts and those of the ‘100 plus printed manuals of culinary

texts published between 1650 and 1750 cited by Pennell’, largely because they

are ‘part of a manuscript culture (in both their methods of recording and their

complete contents)’ which are reflective of the 'messy' ‘volumes of domestic

life’.111 And this 'messiness' is indeed a key characteristic of the scribal

evidence and culture; it is fundamentally organic, piecemeal, eclectic and all-

inclusive, as opposed to the systematic, systematized, organized and

categorized plethora of printed texts.

109 Sara Pennell, ‘Perfecting Practice? Women, Manuscript Recipes and Knowledge in Early Modern England’, Early Modern Women's Manuscript Writing: Selected Papers from the Trinity/ Trent Colloquium, ed. Victoria E. Burke and Jonathan Gibson, (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2004), pp. 237-258, esp. p.240. 110 Margaret J.M.Ezell, 'Domestic Papers: Manuscript Culture and Early Modern Women's Life Writing' Chapter 3, Eckerle, Julie A. & Dowd, Michelle M. Genre and women's life writing in early modern England London: Ashgate 2007 p.42. 111 IBID.

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The handwritten scripts are much more akin to oral transmissions in a

number of ways than they are to printed traditions, despite being an example of

written culture. Ezell argues that domestic manuscripts were ‘open-ended

narratives, lacking a defined ending’, unlike printed works which were logically

structured, with a ‘beginning, middle, and end’, allowing for a ‘layering of time,

continuous self-analysis and reworking’.112 This conflation of the oral and the

scribal may be seen in those receipt books written in several hands, with script

and recipe amendments and additions, and well as with the addition of later

commentary.113 For example, the first, medicinal portion of Mary Glover’s

receipt book (1688) is written in a large, fairly loose, slightly slanted script, while

the later pages are in a much neater, tighter hand [appendice 1]. Likewise,

there are clearly two different hands in Ann Goodenough’s receipt book of

1700-1775: not only is the first considerably smaller and neater than the looser

scrawl of the second, but there are significant differences in the formation of

particular letters, as seen in the two hands’ capital ‘T’s [appendice 2]. Also, the

first hand also consistently capitalized throughout her recipe headings, whereas

the second capitalizes only the first letter and proper names, and there are

differences in minor spellings, ‘to make’ in the first hand, is written as ‘too make’

in the second. Pollock also notes the inclusion of at least three distinctive

hands in Lady Grace Mildmay’s receipt books, and Catherine Field discusses a

number of manuscripts with added commentary and recipes in multiple hands.

The communal nature of these manuscript is a distinct feature of women’s

112 Ibid, p.46. 113 C.Field, ‘Many hands hands', Op Cit., p..56-57.

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receipt books. Indeed of the more one hundred manuscripts consulted for this

thesis at least a third have two or more hands.114

Ezell also refers to the multiple hands which typically play a part in

producing domestic manuscripts, speaking of ‘intergenerational domestic

papers’ which is a fair description of many of the extant receipt books.115 It is

not at all uncommon for a single manuscript to have two or more acknowledged

authors: for example, Mary Baumfylde and Catherine Thatcher’s medical,

cookery receipt book & verses (1626, 1707); the Boyle and Townsend ‘family’

manuscripts (1636-1647); or Anne and Mary Granville’s Receipt book (1740).116

And others still, as previously noted, contain material written by more than one

hand. Likewise, Field notes the ‘receipt book's close relationship to the house

(where women were considered experts in medicine and cooking), its emphasis

on collaboration as well as empirical practice’.117 Moreover, individual and

communal voice and ownership are compounded and inextricably woven

together, so that a collective practice and body of knowledge was built up

across generations, which may be seen even within discreet manuscripts with

identified individual authors. In this light, it could well be argued that any

emphasis on the individual as 'author' of text, at least in this case of the receipt,

is perhaps undeserved. Indeed, the consistency of practice over a great

114 Linda Pollock, With Faith in Physic, The life of a Tudor Gentlewoman. Lady Grace Mildmay 1552-1620. London; Collins and Brown, 1993, Pollock discusses the role which Mildmay’s daughter played in transcribing the original mss. p.98;Catherine Fields ‘Many Hands Hands’, Genre and women’s life writing, Op.cit. p.56-57. 115 Margaret J.M.Ezell, 'Domestic Papers: Manuscript Culture and Early Modern Women's Life Writing', Op.Cit, p.46. 116 FSL.ms.V.a.456: Mary Baumfylde and Catherine Thatcher’s medical, ‘cookery receipt book and versises’; FSL.ms.V.a.430, Mary Granville and Anne Granville Dewes’s Receipt Book, 1740; WC.ms.1340, The Boyle Family receipt books (1675-1710); WC.ms.774, Townsend Family receipt book (1636-1647). 117 C. Field, ‘Many hands hands', Op Cit.., p.50.

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number of manuscripts produced across a great period of time across the

Anglo-American sphere of influence, combined with enough variation to speak

to individual practice, suggests a greater communal authorship and knowledge.

Thus, these domestic manuscripts may be seen as composite evidence of a

collective oral practice, reflecting both the individual author’s immediate

authority, and the hands of her family and close circle of acquaintances.

The often bold, individualized frontispieces to domestic manuscripts

suggests that their authors personally identified, and wished to be identified, as

‘owners’ of the communal knowledge contained within their pages.118 Indeed,

these pages devoted to signatures and dates suggest not only ‘ownership’ of

the receipt books themselves, but also, by inference, of the information

contained therein. And examples of this may be seen in the majority of books,

including those of Grace Blome Randolph, Mary Doggett, Elizabeth Fowle, Mrs

Sarah Longe, and Penelope Jephson Patrick.119 Even more delightful

examples of this are to be found on Susanna Pack’s front page, with Her Book

and ‘Anno Dom, 1674’ written in beautiful curlicues (this is repeated word by

word on the second page) and Constance Hall’s beautiful, highly decorated,

118 Cf. Catherine Field, ‘Many hands hands’, IBID; Rebecca LaRoche, Medical Authority and Englishwomen’s Herbal Texts, Op.cit. 119FSL.ms.V.b.301, unfoliated. Grace Blome Randolph’s Receipt Book, – Randolph’s manuscript is a good example of culinary recipe book containing no overtly medical content, but plenty of examples of medicinal foods – waters, wines, syrups and cordials containing botanic with great alphabetical indexes at front of book - alphabetized contents may also be seen in FSL.ms.Va.429, Rose Kendell et al’s receipt book (as well as FSLms.V.b.14, Jane Dawson’s receipt book, the latter containing similar content to that of Blome Randolph’s, with a range of ‘culinary’ botanicals, i.e. for Cowslip Wine, p.5 and Birch wine, p.15; although there are some obviously medicinal recipes here also, i.e. for ‘Surfitt Water’ p.6, ‘Wormwood Watter’ p.18, ‘Metheglin’ p.19). BL.Add.ms.27466, Mary Doggett, Receipt Book; FSL. ms.V.a.468, Elizabeth Fowler, Receipt Book; FSL.ms.V.a.425Mrs Sarah Longe Her Receipt book; FSL.ms.V.a.396, Penelope Jephson Patrick’s Receipt Book, 1674.

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and hand illustrated frontispiece of 1672.120 Yet these statements of

‘ownership’ are far from statements of personal intellectual property; rather they

may be viewed as an example of personal participation in the shared universal

domestic medical authority. Indeed, examples of hubris associated with

authorship and authority seem to be largely missing from the oral, and scribal,

traditions. Behind their proud frontispieces, these scripts typically acknowledge

a multiplicity of attribution with its shared knowledge and many hands. As such,

the corpus of domestic manuscripts tends to represent a collective consensus

of knowledge and practice.

Communities and Communal Knowledge in Domestic Manu scripts.

Knowledge of botanical medicines, as evidenced by domestic receipt

books was disseminated through families, most obviously between the

‘womenfolk’: mothers, grandmothers, and sisters. The English Eyton

manuscript (1691-1738) includes a recipe titled ‘My Sister Keys way to make

Surup of Clove July flowers’, while Anne Brockman gives two of her mother’s

recipes: ‘A Note of my Mothers Salve water’ and another similar ‘note of my

Mothers Salve’ (England, n.d.), and Elizabeth Digby includes ‘A singular good

Medicine of my Mothers for the greene Sickness’, and an assertion that a

Lucatello recipe was given to her ‘Grandmother Mulso’ by the remedy’s original

author in Lady Elizabeth Dolben’s English recipe collection of 1690.121 In

120 FSL.ms.V.a.215, Susanna Pack, Her Book; FSL.ms.V.a.20, Constance Hall’s Receipt Book. 121 WL.ms.2323, fol.59v, Amy and Mary Eyton, Receipts, 1691-1738; BL.Add.ms.45197, fol.68-69, Anne Brockman, medical receipt book; BL..EG.ms.2197, fol.8v, Elizabeth Digby, Receipts; LC.ms.88209869, Lady Elizabeth Dolben, who writes ‘This receipt was given by Lucatello to my Grandmother Mulso’ p.166Cookery Book, c.1690, - * Lucatella recipes are considered in greater detail elsewhere.

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examining changes in household size and constituents, the social historian,

Peter Laslett, questioned modern understanding of what is meant by Early

Modern concepts of ‘family’ and ‘household’, both of which, for him, are distinct

from ‘community’.122 It is likely that the Early Modern period extended those

concepts of ‘wholeness’, that is to say, to an ordered inter-relatedness of things

associated with the home and garden as well as to concepts of the ‘family’ and

the ‘community’. This conceptual idea of social order grows clearly from the

established medieval concept of a community wherein each member plays a

vital role within the corpus of the larger social entity, with families existing firmly

within that larger social network, and where the domestic medical provisioner

has a clear, vital, social position. In this instance the transmission of knowledge,

whether written or oral, then becomes an extension of the organic nature of the

social entity. In this social ‘whole’, the family, familial traditions and practices,

and familial transmission of information all provide the bedrock for a domestic

culture generally: the family and community defined practice becomes a

universal Anglo-American domestic cultural norm.

The broader approach to family and household networking is detailed by

Stine in her examination both of Anne Howard, Countess of Arundel’s receipt

books (of which three copies were apparently made and disseminated to family

members), and of the links to ‘manuscripts of other families with whom [the

Howard family] shared a social connection.123 Linda Pollock suggests that this

idea would also be embraced by Mildmay, who held a ‘concept of a community

in which each individual utilized his or her own talent fully in order that all should 122 Peter Laslett,’Size and Structure of the Household in England Over Three Centuries‘, Population Studies, Vol. 23, No. 2 (Jul., 1969), pp. 199-223. 123 Jennifer Stine, ‘Opening Closets’, Op.cit., pp 144, 153.

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prosper’.124 Indeed, there is an obvious complexity, and intertextuality, as well

as wider intermodality of transmission, apparent in these manuscripts.

Catherine Field speaks of ‘the textual fragment of the recipe itself – either

invented by the author/ practitioner, or culled from written sources (in print or

manuscripts), or originating with friends, family members, or medical

practitioners’.125 This lack of authorial absolutism, whereby knowledge is

communally shared and dispersed via a range of mediums, means that there is

no clearly defined border between those concepts belonging to a larger

community and those held by a single person, so that knowledge is both part

and parcel of a larger social infrastructure as well as a personal entity

transmitted via private relationships.

Perhaps the intimate, and individual, relationship between the body of

knowledge and its transmission within the household provides an explanation

for gross omissions in instructions within manuscripts, so that a basic

assumption of working knowledge and its scribal transmission is accompanied

by an oral ‘fleshing out’ of material information. Thus, Fissell’s awareness of

how that ‘gap between the fully and the functionally literate, and the literate and

the illiterate, was constantly bridged by the association of words with images

and by the practice of reading aloud’ is augmented by personal directive in

terms of instruction and reception of material.126 Girls would have learned

house-holding skills and familiarity with botanical medicines from their mothers

and mistresses within communal areas of the home, particularly the kitchen.

124 Pollock, With Faith and Physic, Op.cit., p 148. 125 C.Field, ‘Many hands hands', Op Cit.., p.51. 126 Mary Fissell, ‘Readers, text & contexts: Vernacular medical works in early modern England’. Editor, Roy Porter, The Popularization of Medicine, 1650-1850, (Routledge: London, 1992), pp. 72-96.

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Remedial recipes would have been shared in this manner much as culinary

ones were, indeed, much as instructive cooking has always occurred, with one

woman instructing orally, or reading aloud a recipe, as her companion learner

measures out the specified ingredients, mixes, prepares utensils, and so on.

Alongside non-textual evidence of the ‘collective nature’ of these

manuscripts, further development of scribal transmission may also be found

within the receipt books themselves, both in terms of multiplicity of authorship,

as seen in the case of the receipt book of Rose Kendall (1682), as well as with

recipes attributed to the authorship of someone other than the manuscript

compiler.127 The latter indicates the sharing of medical recipes not only

amongst families, but also between and across households and communities:

Mary Doggett provides a recipe for ‘The Lady Cervetts Water’ (1604), Jane

Dawson includes recipes for ‘the Lady Dalton Receipt, for a greate Cake’ and

‘the Lady Altton Receipt for Stewing Oyssters’ and ‘Syrrup of Violetts, Mrs

Copleys’ (c.1650-1699), Margaret Baker includes a remedy attributed to ‘my

couson lauton’ for ‘a coffe’ (1675-1710), and the Granville manuscript contains

a number of attributes, including a recipe ‘For Aches, Thomas Blothers Seare

Cloaths’, and another simply titled ‘Mr John Rutters’ (1740).128

127 FSL.V.a.429, unfoliated Rose Kendell et al, cookery and medical receipt book, p.20. One of the front pages is marked ‘Rose Kendell & Ann Cater there Book’, 1682, while two pages on is written ‘Anna-Maria Wentworth, Her Book, 1725’. 128 BL.Add.ms.27466, fol.14v., Mary Doggett, Her Booke of Receipts, 1604, p.15; FSL.ms.V.b.14, Jane Dawson, Receipt Book, pp.45,57; BL.Sloane.ms.2485, Margaret Baker’s receipt book in two parts containing mainly medical and some culinary receipts, 1650, Baker’s book contains a wide range of attributed recipes, both culinary and medicinal, such as ‘Mrs Barker’s receipt for a cordial watter agains feveavers and loosenesies and consumptions’ (fol.62v.) and ‘mistres Smithsons pouder against the winde’ (fol.65r) ; FSL.ms.V.a.430, f.91, Mary Granville and Anne Granville Dewes, Receipt book, pp.91,4. Other examples from the Granville’s mss include ‘Goodwife Lawrence her Salve’ (p.3) and several recipes attributed to physicians which are examined in the chapter on ‘Authority’.

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Some recipes are attributed rather vaguely to authors known only to the

manuscript author, as in the case of Sarah Longe’s ‘sirrope for a Cough For the

lungs. By D.R.’ (c.1610), while a number of recipes in several manuscripts are

attributed not to obvious family friends or kin at all, but rather to physicians, as

is the case, for example, in the Kendall et al manuscript’s instructions for ‘Dr

Stephens Water’ (1682).129 The association with ‘authority’ on the part of

domestic authors may be further seen in the typical claims to a range of

communal recipes, typically differing in makeup according to author and

household, seen across manuscripts. These include recipes for remedies

attributed to Paracelsus, Lucatella (as already discussed), Dr Gascoine, and so

on, and are found across the whole of the Anglo-American spectrum. This

phenomenon is perhaps most markedly seen in the longevity of Gascoyne

powder: Doggett includes a recipe ‘To make Gascoyne Powder’ in 1604,

Susanna Pack one for ‘Goscons powder’ in her receipt book dated 1674, while

Martha Washington includes several recipes for powder attributed to a Doctor

Gascoy in her manuscript from the late-eighteenth-century.130 Reference to a

contributor using simple initials seems to imply a degree of familiarity: this is a

text intended to be read only by those with intimate knowledge for whom the

reference would suffice in order to identify the author. Attribution to a physician,

or other learned authority, on the other hand, conferred authority and legitimacy

both to the specific recipe and to the individual’s work as a whole.131

129 FSL.ms.V.a.425, unfoliated, Sarah Longe’s Receipt Book; FSL.ms.V.a.429, unfoliated, Rose Kendell et all, Op.Cit., p.20. 130 BL.Add.ms.27466, fol.43v., Mary Doggett’s Receit book, ‘Gascoyne Powder’; FSL.ms.V.a.215, unfoliated, Susanna Pack, Her Booke, 1674, p.109; Martha Washington, Booke of Cookery and Booke of Sweetmeats, Karen Hess trans. pp.428, 429, 430: these recipes include two for Gascoyne’s ‘cordial powders’, and a third for another, untitled ‘powder’. Hess discussed the provenance very briefly, notes, p. 428. 131 This question of authority and authorship, particularly as it relates to the inclusion of recipes attributed to physicians has been considered by a number of authors, including Pollock, Leong,

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Catherine Field writes of how ‘the continued elasticity of receipt books in

terms of theme and organization allowed women to construct themselves as

‘expert’ on anything having to do with the body under their care’. She refers to

how the ‘genre remained unstable for much of the Early Modern period’

meaning again that it does not conform to the rigid and systematic categories

found in printed texts.132 Field further highlights that this organic flexibility is a

result both of the higgledy-piggledy nature of handwritten work, and of the

‘collaborative nature of the receipt book’, which we can readily see in a number

of the manuscripts.133 In the first instance, the organization of content appears

to be almost entirely random in the majority of Early Modern domestic receipt

books, for example, the written instructions ‘To make ginger bread’, is followed

by a ‘A medicin against the tooth ache’ on one page, another ‘For weeke and

lame limes [limbs] in children’ by a recipe ‘to make a quacking pudinge’, and

instructions ‘To make buns’ are followed by a receipt ‘for a Small pox in the

throte’ in Margaret Baker’s receipt book of (1650).134 Likewise, Mary Doggett’s

earlier recipe book gives instructions on making ‘A Plaister for ye chin cough to

be Laid to ye Stomach’, for washing ‘Partie Colored Stockings’, and ‘to Pickle

Cucumbers’ on consecutive pages (1604).135 Mary Cruso’s later work includes

recipes for a ‘Leg of Pork Like a West phalia ham’, ‘To Make Ginger Breade’,

and ‘For a Consumption’ on the same manuscript page (1689).136 Field has

noted the second of these phenomena, writing of how

and Field; it is considered in far greater depth, particularly in relation to the bulk of domestic mss now available in the chapter on ‘Female Agency’. 132 C.Field, ‘Many hands hands', Op Cit.., p.54. 133 IBID. 134 BL.Sloane.ms.2486 fol.56v., 58r., 39v, 40r., Margaret Baker, Receipt book in two parts, 1650.The recipe for ‘snow’ gives directions on how to prepare meringues. 135 BL. Add.MS.27466, fol.18r.,v.,19r., Mary Doggett, Receipt Book, Op.cit. 136 FSL.mx.XD24, p.9, Mary Cruso’s Receipt book, 1689.

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in 1681, Jane Dawson mixes both the culinary and medicinal in her table of contents. Under the letter ‘A’, she includes the recipes for cooker, ‘A good cake’, ‘Apricok Pye’, ‘Apple Cream’, as well as the medicinal, ‘A water for the scurbey’. She includes two medicinal receipts, one for ‘plague water’ and another to make a ‘small tent’ (for draining a wound), on the same page as a receipt for ‘a whit pudding of rice.137

Even in those manuscripts where authors have attempted to differentiate

between the medicinal and the culinary, there is no neat or easy categorization

to be found. For example, in Jane Mosley's Recipes (Derbyshire, 1669-1712)

we can see that the first half of the manuscript clearly intends to focus on

culinary recipes, the second half on medicinal ones, yet there are examples of

botanicals in the form of syrups and cordials to be found in both. 138 This

‘jumbling’ of the medicinal botanical preparations with the culinary occurs also in

other manuscripts. Penelope Jephson Patrick’s seventeenth-century Colonial

manuscript, for example, contains a culinary recipe index at the front and

medicinal index at the back, with seemingly clear cut and precise categorization

of each, so that the listing for ‘A Good Plum Cake’ is listed in the Culinary index,

while a ‘Water for Convulsions the Lady St John’ is listed in the medical index.

Despite the attempt at overall organisational clarity in Patrick’s work, however,

the recipes remain at least occasionally jumbled together, so that the above

137 WC.ms.V.b.14,fol.53, Jane Dawson, cookery book, c.1650-1699, as cited in Catherine Field, ‘'Many hands hands':Writing the Self in Early Modern Women's Recipe Books’ Chapter 4, Eckerle, Julie A. & Dowd, Michelle M. Genre and women's life writing in early modern England London: Ashgate Publishing 2007 p.53. 138 Jane Mosley, Jane Mosley's Derbyshire Recipes containing Recipes for the Baking, Boyling, Roasting & Stewing of Neates Tongue, Lady Elizabeth Cake, Pippin Tart and many other Recipes besides, including Jane Mosley's Derbyshire Remedies, 1669-1712, edited by Joan Sinar, (Derby: Derbyshire Museum Service, 1979).

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mentioned ‘water for convulsions’ is found on the same page in the text body as

a recipe ‘To make fricase of Chicken’.139

Susanna Pack’s Receipt Book (England, 1674) differs from the preceding

examples in that it is divided into several distinct sections: ‘Presardes’

(preserves), ‘Past and Cadies’, ‘Waters & Wins’, ‘Powdrs & Syrops’, ‘Cookery’,

‘Comfits’, ‘Gely & Consrve’, and ‘Oyntments’. Yet, not only do we see a lack of

clarity clearly separating the culinary from the medical (where one might expect

to see preserves, pastes and candies, cookery, comfits, and jellies & conserves

in a single section; waters, wines, powders, syrups, and ointments in another),

but also there is further confusion of categorization amongst the recipes

themselves: the ‘Past and Cadies’ section contains a variety of pastes and

candies, including those which are quasi-medicinal such as candied Angelica,

and those which are really medicinal products (botanicals), such as candied

cowslips. Likewise the ‘Waters and Wins’ section contains both prandial

(mulberry wine) and medicinal (‘A water for Convolsions’) recipes; the ‘comfits’

section contains a recipe for ‘Losinges’ with two variants: the first containing

‘Aramalicum Rossalum specses’ and ‘Rosewator’ which is ‘Exceding good for

the longs helps digestion strengthen the Braine & Stumacke’, while the second

is based on a combination of English liquorish and ‘Ambergreece’

recommended as ‘very good for a cough’; and the ‘Gely & Consrve’ section

provides details for the production of ‘Hartshorn Gelly’, ‘Conserve of

Woodsorrill’, or ‘Conserve of Bittony or Archangell’ alongside more obvious

edibles. That these recipes are fundamentally medicinal in nature rather than 139 FSL.ms.V.a.396, fol.41v., Penelop Jephson Patrick’s Receipt Book, 1671-1675. A recipe to make ‘Water for Convulsions’ is prefaced by one for ‘A Good Plum Cake’, and followed by one ‘To make fricase of Chicken’.

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culinary may be found in the recipe descriptions themselves, for example, Pack

recommends her ‘Hartshorn Gelly’ for the treatment of melancholy, writing that

‘it is very Refreshing to a weake person cheares the spirits’.140

This ambiguity is a common trait in the majority of manuscripts, with a

considerable number of recipes lying somewhere between the medicinal and

the culinary. Notable here are those recipes for syrups, waters, and cordials.

For example, Martha Washington’s works (1749-1799) consist of two books, a

‘Booke of Cookery’, and one of ‘Sweetmeats’, yet the second of these contains

recipes for medicinal ‘sirrups’, wines and cordials as well as specific botanical

waters, ‘oyles’, and powders as well as classic dessert recipes and instructions

for the making of preserves and candies.141 In these instances, the recipes are

clearly intended to produce medicines, and indeed, are often themselves used

as ‘ingredients’ in more complex botanical recipes. Moreover, Washington’s

rose water recipe is found in the culinary section, and is itself used in a number

of other culinary recipes, yet it is also co-opted for the production of botanicals,

including lozenges and plaisters, and these recipes are found in the medicinal

section. And in some instances, the blurring between household aspects

occurs even beyond the kitchen and distillery: Dorothy Philip’s writing includes

140 FSL.ms.V.a.215,unfoliated Susanna Pack, Her Book (of Receipts), 1674, ‘Presardes’ p.7, ‘Past and Cadies’ p.31, with recipes for candied Angelica and Cowslip pp.49,51, ‘Waters & Wins’ p.57, with ‘Aqua Marabalos p.59, ‘Stomach of Plague water’ p.61, water ‘For the Scury’ p. 62, several windes including Cowslip p.81, and Mulberry p.85, ‘Powdrs & Syrops’ p.99, ‘Cookery’ p.125, ‘Comfits’ p.205 with the recipe for lozenges to be found on p. 222, ‘Gely & Consrve’ p.233 with ‘Hartshorn Gelly’ recipe p.241, and ‘Conserve of Woodsorrell’ as well as ‘Conserve of Bittony or Archangell’ on p.276, and ‘Oyntments’ p.284. 141 Martha Washington, Martha Washington’s Booke of Cookery and Booke of Sweetmeats being a Family Manuscripts curiously copied by an unknown HAND sometime in the seventeenth century, which was in her Keeping from 1749, to the time of her Marriage to Daniel Custis, to 1799, at which time she gave it to Elanor Parke Custis, her granddaughter, on the occasion of her Marriage to Lawrence Lewis, Karen Hess trans. (New York: University of Columbia Press, 1995 ).

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sermons and family records along with recipes, while Elizabeth Fowler’s book,

though almost entirely made up of culinary recipes, includes not only the odd

medicinal receipt, but also the occasional hymn, and a poem.142 For domestic

practitioners, the botanical agent is neither one thing nor another; rather, plant

agents are produced, and used, as a means of addressing the needs of the

household, whatever they may be, with an equal emphasis on nutritional and

medical demands.

Personal Authority

Several scholars have looked at the ability, indeed willingness, of

domestic authors to ‘prove’ remedies’ medical efficacy. It is interesting to note

that this was not a universal phenomenon, with those authors writing evaluative

commentary tending to do so fairly consistently, while the bulk of manuscripts

contain little or no scribal evidence of assessment at all. Extending the

argument that these manuscripts are literally written versions of a much older

oral tradition, the simple act of committing a recipe to page is an act of

approbation: those recipes which have not ‘proved’ themselves time and time

again do not get passed on and eventually written down. Examples where

authors have pointedly remarked on a remedy’s efficacy might therefore

become a point of differentiation, whereby it is hoped that the reader can pluck

the best out of a number of options presented. Pollock writes of Mildmay that

‘her papers reveal that there was little difference between the care offered by a

142 FSL.ms.V.a.347Dorothy Philips, A Sermon Booke; FSL.ms.V.a.468.Elizabeth Fowler, Her Book, (cookery book with receipts and a hymn and a poem).

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university-trained physician and that offered by a self-taught woman’.143 Yet

differentiation may be found in the empirical approach of domestic practitioners

which revolved around received anecdote and evaluation of personal

experience. Indeed, this thread of on-going assessment of the informal

communal, rather than learned dogmatic, information has been commented on

by a number of scholars. This shared domestic knowledge was not merely

accepted and learned by rote, but rather was being actively adopted, tested,

and adapted. Indeed, Catherine Field writes of domestic authors ‘foregrounding

individual testing and personal experience of the receipt through their recording

of whether a receipt is ‘proved’ to be effective or not’. She goes on, however, to

write that

recipe writing and practice was thus a specialized type of self-certification, one encouraged by the ‘new ideas’ of the Scientific Revolution, ‘a mechanical philosophy’ that ‘validated the maker’s knowledge’ (verum factum) model of scientific explanation, the maxim of reasoning according to which to know something means knowing how to make it.144

The question of personal ‘provings’ is, in itself inconclusive, as both domestic

and also vernacular authors may well have inherited ‘proof’ of efficacy, but the

weight of evidence demonstrating sharing of botanical information across

domiciles combined with the high degree of individual application of this

knowledge, speaks directly to the domestic culture. Evidence of these women’s

‘proving’ of a remedy lies both in its inclusion with their manuscripts as well,

possibly as the written approbation, and ultimately, in their willingness to finesse

and adapt each remedy to suit their own household needs.

143 Linda Pollock, With Faith in Physic, Op.cit, p.2. 144 Catherine Fields, ‘Many Hands Hands’, Genre and Women’s Life, Op.cit. p.57.

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Margaret Baker includes more than one ‘excellent’ recipe for medicines

against the plague, plural recipes for ‘a good Cordiall’, and several recipes for

‘excellent’ eye waters (1650).145 Mary Doggett likewise includes a number of

‘approved’ recipes which contain similar botanical content, even if their intended

remedial purpose differs (1604): ‘An Extt water for many cures’ contains

‘Ginger, Gallingallm Nutmeggs graines, Cloves, AnnySeeds, Fennellseeds,

Caraway seeds’ as well as ‘sage, mint, red roses, Time, Pettitory, Rose Mary,

Wild time, Sllendine, & Cammamelle … Wallnutt Leaves, Cardis’ in a ‘good

Gascones wine’ menstruum, while her ‘Excellt water for all surfitts or any

Sudden Extremity’ contains ‘Corne roses … Annyseeds, English Liquorish …

ginger, fennel, Bittany, Agrimony, Tormentill, 4 nutmegs, a handful of Angelico,

a handful of balmes, as much of Rosemary as much of Cardus’ with extra ‘Rose

Leaves’, a ‘graine of ambergreece’, and ‘12 Cloves’.146 While there are some

important distinctions between the two remedies, particularly in terms of their

indigenous herb content, both ‘excellent’ waters are actually built around a

similar base of ‘exotics’: ginger, nutmeg, clove, aniseed, and fennel; and each

contains rose, making them more similar than dissimilar. That any one of these

remedies would be singled out suggests approbation of the inherited, communal

practice, whereby this type of remedy, or versions thereof, are commonly

perceived to be of value. In some instances it may, equally, reflect the positive

experience of an individual author with one particular version of the remedy

type. The occasion of both types of approbation, the inherited communal

practice alongside the individual practitioner’s interpretation and application of it

across domestic sources is, again, entirely in keeping with the broader domestic 145 BL.Sloane.ms.2486, fols.25r, 31r,v., 38v,rrv,45v, 46v, 48v, 50r, 55r, 62v,63r, Margaret Baker, Receipt book in two parts, pp.14-15, 16, 19. 146 BL..Add.ms.27466, fol.95, Mary Doggett, Receipt Book, (1604), Op.cit.

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culture. These works reflect a communal norm with a high degree of personal

and household individualization, whereby perception of worth on the part of

either a remedy’s maker, or an earlier practitioner source, is equally of value.

The majority of annotated texts would seem to support this theory of

commentary, whereby given approbation confers a mark of distinction amongst

remedies. Mary Granville’s English recipe for ‘an Admirable Good Water

Against Melancholy’ (1740), annotated by her daughter who writes that it is

‘very good for them that are heauy hearted … it will comfort you very much …

Probatum est’, and again, a recipe for ink is designated ‘= Verie Good’, and a

further recipe with the comments ‘A most Excellent Plaister for all kind of

wounds or old soars … Ye had from my sister Melborn in Essex Ye 12th of June

1683’. Each of these recipes clearly aim to communicate the author’s

approbation of the botanical’s efficacy, as well as imparting worth back to the

originating source, be this maternal or sororal.147 Likewise, Mary Doggett

provides a recipe for ‘An Excell.t Wat.r for y.e preservacon of Manor Woman

long to Live’ (1604), Penelope Jephson Patrick one for ‘An excellente Good

water for the stone’ (1671-1675), Lettice Pudsey says of her ‘Black Salve’ that it

‘is a very good salve for a boyle or any sore’ (c.1675), while Jane Dawson gives

instruction on ‘How to make Metheglin a right good way’ (1650-1699). Doggett

further, includes recipes for six separate waters on a single page of her folio,

two with specific uses: ‘for ye Killing of any Itch or Ringworme Redness of Salt

Flamed Face’ and ‘A Water for the stone’; two different yet straightforward

147 FSL.ms.V.a.430, unfoliated, Mary Granville and Anne Granville Dewes, Receipt Book, 1740, pp.7, 12, .42, 112. Catherine Field cites this recipe of the Granvilles’ in her brief examination of the importance of ‘proving’ to early modern household practitioners, in Many Hands Hands’, Genre and Women’s Lives, Op.cit. p.57.

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recipes for ‘A Cordiall Water’, ‘A Sovereign Cordiall Water’ recipe; and another

for ‘An Excellent Water’. Apart from the two waters with specified uses in

Doggett’s manuscript, it is difficult to ascertain why she bothered including the

recipes for simple cordial waters when she had two other recipes which she

clearly feels are better.148 Doggett’s waters are a straightforward example of

what we are seeing in each instance, however. Typically those recipes carrying

specific approbation are, on the face of it, relatively similar in composition and

application to any number of other examples within the communal cannon, and

the single example may be read as highlighting the value of the whole, with

exemplar remedies representing the individualized success of the communal

practice.149

Similarly, if less frequently, authors provide evidence of critical

dismissal: Catherine Field found one instance of this, noting that ‘this receipt is

good for nothing’ is scrawled underneath a crossed out recipe for pickled

cucumbers in Lettice Pudsey’s manuscript (1675).150 Jane Dawson’s receipt

book also contains a single scratched out recipe for gingerbread with ~VOID~

written beside it (1650-1699). 151 Anne Glydd’s Receipt book (1656-1700)

contains a recipe for ‘An excellent Oyntment for any hott inflammation’ which

has been firmly cancelled out, providing a rather contradictory analysis of the

remedy whereby the initial complimentary approbation was inherited with the

recipe, and the subsequent crossing out was a personal assessment on the part

148 BL.Add.ms.27466, fol.8r, Mary Dogget’s Receipt Book. 149 BL.Add.ms.27466, fols.3r,5v,14v, Mary Doggett’s Receipt Book; FSL.ms.V.a.396,fol.39r, Penelope Jephson Patrick’s Receipt book; FSL.ms.V.a.450, fol.56v, Lettice Pudsey’s Receipt Book, ‘a surfeit or plague water’; FSL.ms.V.b.14, unfoliated, Jane Dawson’s Receipt book, p.33. 150 FSL. V.a.450(1), fol.56r, Lettice Pudsey’s receipt book, c.1675, as cited in Catherine Field, ‘Many hands hands', Op Cit., p.57. 151 FSL.V.b.14, unfoliated, Jane Dawson’s Receipt book, 1650-1699, p.66.

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of Glydd.152 These disapprobations are atypical, however, occurring in less

than five percent of recipes in the entire source body of manuscripts examined

by the thesis. The relative lack of critical analysis of manuscript recipes could be

considered evidence of a lack of critical faculty on the part of domestic authors,

as though they were merely passive recipients of traditional knowledge. It is

more likely, however, that the rarity of expressed disapproval serves to reinforce

a larger picture of the overall communal body of knowledge across households.

Far from suggesting a lack of critical awareness, the relative (in relation to

affirmation of efficacy) lack of disapproval directed towards particular recipes

may be seen to demonstrate the empirical nature of their oral and scribal

dissemination: only those remedies which were seen to work, consistently and

reliably, were communally held in high enough regard to be passed on over

substantial periods of time, and eventually written down.

There are instances of domestic authors demonstrating and defending

their knowledge, both of botanicals, and of medical practice more broadly,

presumably in the face of authoritative censure. Indeed, the opposite side of the

householders’ at least occasional deference to, and reliance on, professional

practitioners, is the assertion of domestic authority and skill divorced from any

association with elite authority. One such example may be found in Mary

Chantrell’s Receipt book of 1690. Chantrell includes a recipe for rickets

containing wormwood, chamomile, and earthworms, macerated in butter, writing

that it is ‘‘ye best thing as ever was known for a Child that has ye Rickets And

has cured Severall when all other means has failed if they have exactly followed

152 BL. Add.ms.45196, unfoliated, Anne Glydd’s Receipt Book, 1656-1700.

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it’.153 Not only does Chantrell assert the recipe’s superiority as a medicine, ‘ye

best thing as ever was known’, but her faintly acerbic admonition that the

remedy works, but only works, ‘if they have exactly followed it’ suggests that

she writes in response to former criticism of the remedy’s efficacy.

Similarly, the frontispiece to Katherine Packer’s 1639 Receipt book is

equally confident of the knowledge and material contained therein, reading: ‘A

Boocke of Very Good medicines for severall deseases wounds and sores ------

both new and olde / Reade gather and make carefull practice / ~ Katherine

Packer / Ano 1639 Dominee’. 154 Again, Packer combines an extolling of the

book’s medical work, containing as it does ‘very good medicines for severall

deseases’, but further requiring a degree of care in both its reading, and in the

practical application of its contents, on the part of the reader practitioner. While

these recipes seem to be somewhat at odds with earlier arguments concerning

the fluidity of domestic transmission and practice as well as the lack of hubris

amongst domestic authors as Chantrell leaves little, or no, room for

individualization, they are not necessarily indicative of a wholesale design on

establishing medical monopolies. Indeed, these instances are notable for their

rarity. Likewise however, an argument may be made to suggest that although

this vocalization of the value of work contained therein is unusual in domestic

manuscripts, the very fact of the works themselves indicates their value to Early

Modern and Colonial householders. They typically did not need to sing their

own praises, as their worth was obvious.

153WL.ms.1548, fol.67v, Mary Chantrell’s Receipt Book ,1690. 154 FSL.ms.V.a.387, Katherine Packer, Boocke of Very Good medicines, 1639, frontispeace.

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Women’s provision of health care within the home was acknowledged by

Early Modern and Colonial authority, if only to be inferred by the instructions

found in vernacular texts of the period. Buchan’s instructional appendixes

promise to provide:

A List of Simples and of such Medicinal Preparations as ought to be kept in Readiness for private Practice: The Method of preparing and compounding such Medicines as are recommended in the former Part of the Book, with the Addition of several others of a similar Nature: Remarks on the Doses, Uses, and Manner of applying the different Preparations.155

The assumption that this information was of use to the Early Modern and

Colonial householder, along with the continued popularity of this, and other,

vernacular texts as evidenced by their printing histories, further supports the

commonality of domestic medical practice. Moreover, the receipt books

themselves provide ample evidence highlighting the ability of domestic

practitioners to differentiate not only in their diagnosis and prescribing, but in

their in-depth understanding of pharmacology: how different medicines act upon

different body types, ages, genders, and so on. For example, Sarah Longe’s

manuscript contains a remedy titled ‘A purge for a man’, Rose Kendells’ a

‘water for children for ye wind & Against fitts of the Convulsion’, Mary Doggett’s

another ‘To cure a sore Breast but not a Cancer’, and Elizabeth Digby’s ‘A

Medicine for [illeg], or blooddy fluxe which may be taken if a woman be with

childe’. 156 In the first two instances we see remedies with specified patient

155 William Buchan, Domestic Medicine, Op.Cit., p.647. 156 FSL.ms.V.a.425, Sarah Longe, Receipt book, ‘A purge for a man’, p.31; FSL.ms.V.a.429, fol.19r, Rose Kendell et all, Receipt book, ‘The water for children for ye wind & Against fitts of the Convulsion’; BL.ms.A27466, fol.49r, Mary Doggett, Receipt Book, ‘To cure a sore Breast but not a Cancer’; BL.ms.EG2197, fol.17v, Elizabeth Digby, Receipts, ‘A Medicine for a

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groups, demonstrating that there wasn’t necessarily a ‘one size fits all’ attitude

towards medicaments. Indeed, Longe’s purge remedy is as interesting as

Kendells’, for while we have long been aware of Early Modern and Colonial

sensitivity to the physiological differences between adults and children reflected

in remedies, an appreciation of gender-based prescribing differentiation is rarer,

though considerations of average sizes alone make this a reasonable aspect of

prescribing to attend to. In the third of these, Doggett is clearly differentiating

between forms of pathology, which not only has implications for which

prescriptive is chosen (or not), but implies a confidence and awareness of

diagnostic differentiation as well. Likewise, Digby’s recipe differentiation is

dependent both on the diagnostics (or at the very least, an awareness of the

patient’s state of fecundity) and their prescriptive implications: in the carrying of

a child, a pregnant woman is fundamentally different from one who is not, both

because foetuses may be inadvertently aborted, and because the woman, and

child, are sensitive and responsive in ways that they would not be in any other

situation.

Evidence of domestic agency and authority is not limited to receipt

books, nor is it proscribed by the practice of working with botanical medicines:

receipt books, journals, and letters all illustrate the breadth of domestic medical

interest and knowledge, and the botanical culture extends to include the

diagnostic. Indeed, the sheer range of ailments included in sources of domestic

authorship suggests that domestic practitioners felt competent to diagnose, and

treat, virtually all manners of ill-health. For example, Mary Baker’s manuscript

…blooddy fluxe which may be taken if a woman be with childe’, to which the author has added: ‘thie Medicine hass bene many times proved, and hass alwayes helped’.

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contains a recipe ‘for a consumption of ye lungs, green Sickness, of tissicke or

shortnes of breth’ (1652), and ‘an exelent cordiall [of use] ... in any ordinary

distempers, as fevers or agues’, while a single opening of Elizabeth Freke’s

receipt book produces two recipes apiece for ‘yellow jaundice’, ‘Goutt’, ‘Sciatica

or Bone Ach’, and single recipes for a ‘medicine to Cleer the Sightt’, ‘Pilles’*,

‘Tooth Ach’, ‘Shortt Breath or Tisick’, one ‘for the Stone’, another to cure ‘all

fluxes of blood’, a gargle for a ‘swoln & sore throatt’, and a final remedy aimed

at relieving ‘a pricking heatt in the Eye’.157 Moreover, domestic authors further

clearly demonstrate familiarity with prescribing differentiation: A cordial

attributed to Dr Jeffers in Mary Baker’s manuscript is purportedly useful ‘in ould

or young, a man or woman may safly take three sponfuls or a child one in a

morning fasting … except women with child they need not take it’.158 Domestic

authors are likewise capable of writing intelligently of the responsive nature of

medicine delivery, as seen in Katherine Davies’ instructions for the

administration of buckthorne syrup, which should be given ‘in spoonfuls

according to ye age and strength of ye person it works best when given alone

not mixt with anything’, illustrating not only her own authority and knowledge in

knowing that the recipe is more effective if given on its own, but equally,

suggesting an assumption of prior experience on the part of the anyone

administering the recipe in terms of how age and ‘strength of ye person’ should

affect dosage.159

157 BL.Sloane.ms.2485, fols.22v, 28r, Margaret Baker, Receipt Book, 1652; BL.Add.ms.45718, fol.417, Elizabeth Freke, Her Booke. 158 BL.Sloane.ms.2485, fol.25r, Margaret Baker’s Receipt Book, 1652. 159 BL.ms.EG2214, fol.17v, Katherine Davis’s Receipt Book, c.1701.

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Several household authors write in such a way as to suggest some

domestic proficiency in diagnostic differentiation also. When the Adams’ son,

Charlie, came down with the small pox in Braintree, Virginia, in 1775, Abigail

wrote frequently to John apprising him of the child’s illness and treatment

progress in terms which border on the diagnostic:

... At present all my attention is taken up with the care of our Little Charles who has been very bad. The Symptoms rose to a burning fever, a stupifaction and delirium ensued for 48 hours. The Doctor attended him as tho he had been his own child. He has the Distemper in the natural way. A most plentifull Eruption has taken place. Tho every thing has been done to lessen it that could, his face will be quite coverd, many if not all will run together. He is yet a very ill child, tho his Symptoms are lessend.160

What is unclear here is whether the identification of ‘distemper’ is based on

Adam’s own observation or repetition of the doctor’s diagnosis. A following

addition to the same letter contains information which is far more directly

suggestive of Abigail’s personal medical knowledge and skill set. She writes

Tis now two days since I wrote. As to my own Health I mend but very slowly -- have been fearful of a return of my disorder to day but feel rather better now. Hope it is only oweing to my having been fatigued with looking after Tommy as he is unwilling any body but Mamma should do for him, and if he was I could not find any body that is worth having but what are taken up already with the sick. Tommy I hope is mending, his fever has abated, his Bowels are better, but was you to look in upon him you would not know him, from a hearty hale corn fed Boy, he is become pale lean and wan. Isaac is getting better, but very slowly.Patty is very bad. We cannot keep any thing down that she takes, her situation is very dangerous. Mr. Trot and one of his children are taken with the disorder.

Not only is Adams clearly demonstrating observational skills here (that is, in her

description of Tommy’s transformation from a ‘hearty hale corn fed boy’ to one

‘become pale, lean, and wan’), but she is obviously noting those diagnostic

160 MHS.mss.011304, Adams Family Papers, Letter from Abigail Adams to John Adams, 8 - 10 September 1775.

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criteria which define the illness at hand by considering the boy’s fever and

bowel habits. Moreover, alongside her diagnostic, and indeed, hopeful

prognostic, skills, Adams is clearly engaging first-hand with both medical

ministrations generally in nursing both herself and her family back to health, but

also demonstrates familiarity with botanical medicines specifically.

The first half of Abigail’s letter dated September 8 contained a plea to

her husband not to ‘forget my Herbs for your own sake as well as mine. -- Ever

yours’, indicating that the combination of domestic provisioning continues

unabated, despite, and in conjunction with, the professional provisioning she

described in terms of the doctor’s visit.161 And the second (written September

10) further implores him to

By the first safe conveyance be kind eno to send me 1 oz. of turkey Rhubub, the root, and to procure me 1 quarter lb. of nutmegs for which here I used to give 2.8 Lawful, 1 oz. cloves, 1 of cinnamon. You may send me only a few of the nutmegs till Bass returns. I should be glad of 1 oz. of Indian root. So much sickness has occasiond a scarcity of Medicine.162

The Adams’ experience of domestic provisioning was both immediate and

ongoing; in 1775 following an outbreak of dysentery, Abigail writes of how their

‘House is an hospital in every part’, before noting that ‘such is the distress of the

neighbourhood that I can scarcly find a well person to assist me in looking after

the sick’.163 It is in no large part Adams’ observational and diagnostic skills

along with her treatment of ailments via the administration of her ‘herbs’ that

gives credence to her agency. Her ability to practice within the wider

161 MHS.mss.011304, Adams Family Papers, Letter from Abigail Adams to John Adams, 18 August 1776. 162 MHS.mss.011304, Adams Family Papers, Letter from Abigail Adams to John Adams, 8 - 10 September 1775. 163 IBID.

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neighbourhood is a direct result of her authority in accessing the wider,

communal, domestic botanical culture and practice.

Nor is this agency simply an example of Colonial, ‘can do’, mentality.

Domestic agency and authority surrounding the intelligent use of botanical

knowledge may be ferreted out of the relationship existing between preparation

instructions and application or ministrations in a number of seventeenth and

eighteenth-century English recipes also. For example, in her recipe ‘for an

Ague’ (1664-1729), Mary Bent stipulates that the botanical, here a simple made

of powdered Jesuit’s bark, or Cinchona, be moistened and spread on leather

before being applied as a plaster to the ‘writes, crown, one for ye Navill … one

for each Foot to goe under the Foot to meet on ye Topp of ye Instepp’.164 And

Elizabeth Freke is frequently inclusive in terms of the breadth of knowledge

demonstrated in her recipes; commonly including not only ingredients and

preparation instructions, but also what the remedy is good for, and how to

administer it (c.1684). In her recipe titled ‘Wormwood Watter: Mr Cullpeper’,

Freke instructs the householder to

Take of common & Roman Worme wood of each a pound, Sage, Mints, Balmes of each to handfuls, Gallingall, ginger, Callamas , Aramalicus, Elicompane of each half an ounce Licorisse to ounces, anice Seed, & Sweett Fenell Seed of each half an ounce, Ciniman, Cloves, Nuttmegs of each 10 dragms, Cardemons & Cubibs each one dragme, bruise the hearbs small & beatt the spices, and infuse them 24 hours in wine or very strong March best, next day putt yt fowr Gallons of Liquor into a Limbeck and destill itt. And Mingle itt or keep itt by itt self as you think fitt only sweeten the smaller with Loaf Suger ~ this watter is a great restorer of Nature In ‘old’ people ~ spoonfuls some times.165

164 WL.ms.1127, Mary Bent’s Receipt Book, 1664-1729, p.177. 165 BL.Add.ms.45718, fol.26r, Elizabeth Freke,1684 –1714, Op.cit.

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There is no recipe for ‘Wormwood Water’ in either Culpeper’s Complete Herball,

or the English Physitian. Indeed, the former contains only a fraction of the herb-

specific material included in the latter, but neither contains even a comparable

remedy to that found in Freke’s manuscript. There are instructions on how to

make simple general waters in both, however, and Culpeper’s account of

Wormwood in The English Physitian includes a wealth of other information,

including its use in age related ailments (alongside its ability to provoke urine,

help ‘surfets [and] Swelling in the Belly’, the bite or sting of any ‘martial

Creature’, ‘chollick’, and ailments of the spleen.166 Far from being a simple

redaction of a recipe existing within the public, elite, sphere of printed

knowledge, Freke’s remedy seems to be a consolidation of individual domestic

knowledge garnered from a wide wealth of sources.

This ‘widening’ culture whereby domestic authors engage with, indeed

adopt and adapt, aspects of the prevailing ‘great’ medical culture may be further

traced in the complex relationship between advice in vernacular works and

instruction in receipt books. Transmission of domestic botanical cultures and

knowledge, along with its associated ‘authority’ rests in many quarters with

household manuscripts combing information from oral domestic sources with

material derived from printed text. For example Katherine Davis’ manuscript of

1701 is constructed using the typical English receipt book format with a wide

range of medical receipts containing lists of botanical ingredients and basic

preparation and application instructions. It also contains further notes on

specific botanicals written in a second hand throughout the text (filling in spaces

166 Nicolas Culpeper, The English Physitian: or an astrologo-physical discourse of the vulgar herbs of this nation (London, 1652), pp239-240.

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left by K.D. for later additions). These seem to be copied from a herbal (along

with one passage written in Katherine’s own hand describing ‘The Virtues of the

Oke tree as I found it withen an ancient manuscript’). The second hand also

uses medical annotation such as ‘Rx’, suggesting at least a passing familiarity

with elite, learned, medical practice.167 While the bulk of recipes clearly mirror

the content and format of the communal domestic culture, and reflect oral, and

associated scribal, cultures, these later additions suggest a familiarity with

learned sources and even, in the use of ‘Rx’, of medical practice. The lack of

theoretical rationale, however, equally suggests that Davis, and her co-author,

are claiming those bits of printed, popular and learned, practice which best suit

their domestic needs. This adoption and adaption is, by its very nature, a

hallmark of domestic culture in practice. For each of the authors cited here there

is a clear sense of an underpinning knowledge, skill, experience, and

confidence in addressing a range of medical concerns with botanical agents.

This body of knowledge and practice defined the ‘agency’ of those authors as

individuals, and in turn fed into, and defined, the ‘agency’ of the communal

botanical culture itself.

Scribal in Print Cultures: Colonial Sources

The mixing of cultures and transmission pathways is everywhere

apparent in scribal sources, and the ‘messiness’ of some of the later, Colonial,

sources is even more notable than that found in the Early Modern English

manuscripts. Margaret Ezell comments on the physical nature of scribal

167 BL.Eg.ms.2214, Katherine Davis’s Receipt Book, c.1701. For example, there are notes on ‘celendine’ and ‘chamomile’ fol.12v, The ‘Oke’ recipe may be found fol.29r, examples of medical writing fol.38r.

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compilations, with additions and amendments altering the original source (which

may, in itself, have been compiled in a higgledy-piggeldy, ad hoc, manner).168

The richest vein of information for domestic use of plants continues to be the

‘receipt books’ on both sides of the Atlantic, even these also vary hugely in their

content and scope. That said, differences within receipt books are indicative

that no fast or easy rules may be drawn here: Mary Corlyon’s fastidiously

ordered English medicinal manuscript of 1660 is a straightforward working text

compiled by an orderly and practical mind, with ease of use clearly built into its

design. The contents are relatively ordered, and clearly catalogued and

indexed. Contrasting with this is the very personal, anecdotal script contained

in Elizabeth Coates Paschall’s Colonial Receipt Book of the early-eighteenth-

century where remedies are contextualized within narratives describing the

exact nature of how the author received them, often with dramatic retellings of

how, where, and when they were used, with what effects. This is a rather

exuberate, and personal, version of the ‘probatum est’: Paschall is not only

telling us the remedy works, but she is attempting to show us via the relation of

an her medical stories. 169 This is not to suggest that a simple Anglo-American

divide existed, however; with greater reticence and decorum being exhibited by

English authors, and narrative abandon regularly embraced by Colonialists.

For example, in contrast to Paschall’s manuscript is Catherine Haines’

Receipt Book, also written in early- to mid-eighteenth-century Philadelphia.

This contains a far greater range of material than the Paschall source, both in

168 Margaret J.M. Ezell, 'Domestic Papers’, Op.Cit, p. 54. 169 CP.ms.168289.Class 20e.No.352, .unfoliated, Elizabeth Coates Paschall, Receipt Book, 1702-1753.

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its medicinal scope, and in its communal relativity.170 Thus the recipe ‘for a

violent Chollick Pain in the Bowells [in a Miscarriage]’ found in Paschall’s book

begins ‘I once was verry Bad with a violent pain in my Back & Bowells…’, while

Haine’s recipe for ‘Deborah Morris’s Cholick Drops’ begins with a simple list of

ingredients: ‘One ounce of Vollital Aromatick/ one ounce of Vollital fidit’; and

ends with dosage instructions: ‘- if the Cholick Continues Violent if may be

repeated every hour till Easy’.171 In each remedy, the botanicals used are

given: Paschall recommending a topically applied oatmeal and chamomile

glister, while Haines uses an internal formula based on laudanum dispersed in

an aromatic distillate. The structural differences in the delivery of each remedy,

however, suggest a profound difference in how each author perceives the

medicines and medical practice. Indeed, Paschall’s personal, anecdotal

narrative holds more in common with Moody Follensby’s ‘health journal’ than

with Haine’s working Receipt Book, despite ostensibly falling into the same

category as the latter.

On the one hand, Haine’s work is a jobbing text, closely mimicking

early English receipt book formats. It contains a range of recipes, both culinary

and medicinal, with various attributions, the occasional personal approbation,

and a mixture of information relating to botanicals, manufacturing instructions,

and tips on dosage and administration. On the other lies Follensby’s brief,

personal health narrative history as written in the almanac’s margins over the

course of a year. And somewhere in the middle lies Paschall’s relation; a far

170 APS.ms.coll.52-ead, series III: Wyck Association Collection, Reuben Haines, Box 87: Folder 2, unfoliated, Catharine Haines, Notebook, 1776. 171 CP.ms.168289.Class 20e.No.352, .unfoliated, Elizabeth Coates Paschall, Op.cit.. APS.ms.coll.52-ead, series III, unfoliated, Catharine Haines’ Notebook, Op.cit.

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more intimate narrative recall than Haine’s work, yet containing more practical

information than Follensby’s. Paschall’s work is a personal relation of her own,

or a named source’s, particular illness. Here the botanical information acts

almost as an effecter character within the larger tale of an illness successfully,

sometimes almost miraculously, overcome, and indeed, Paschall’s recipes are

almost exclusively presented in this personal narrative, case study, format.

What does seem to be happening to a varying degree with these texts is a

willingness on the part of the Colonial authors to break with the accepted format

and stylized individualization of the Early Modern English receipt books.

Equally, in this wider context, Follensby’s diary and Paschall’s work may well

indicate a new world individualization in the perception of health and health care

creeping into Colonial medical narratives which is further explored in Chapter

Six.

Broadening out from the receipt books alone to a wider reading of

domestic scribal sources, we see concern with health and health care more

widely in a number of Colonial sources, including Moody Follensby’s diary, and

Elizabeth Coates Paschall’s Receipt Book.172 In Moody Follensby’s

Massachusett’s Diaries (leafs interspersed with an Almanac of 1765-1766),

references to ailments are found written within the Almanac body itself. Across

from the printed text for January, 1766, Follensby summarizes his health over

the whole of the year, writing

172 CP.MS.168289.Class 20e.No.352. Elizabeth Coates Paschall’s Receipt Book (1702-1753). As considered in the introduction, the thesis is concerned with identifying and tracing the domestic botanical culture generally, with the provision that it clearly existed primarily within a domestic, feminine, province, with a greater proportion of male contributors from the early colonies, as seen here in Follensby’s ‘almanac’. That caveat aside, the gender of individual authors is irrelevant when outlining other of the culture’s key characteristics.

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Jan.23rd . was taken with a violent swelling in the face called St Anthony’s fire, which turned into ye gout which went into all my Limbs and confined me to my bed for a week was unable for some days to turn in my bed without help – April 20th. Taken with ye gout in my neck right hand both knees & both feet was confined to my bed for five days, very sure of rain but ot able to go about my Room - Very free from the gout this summer till sometime in Set. The weather changing but raw in my limb and on Saturday 20th had ye gout in my right shoulder and hand very painful went into both my knees & feet kept my bed two days not able to go without crutches for a week able to go about the house Oct 11th went so far as my gate Nov.15 taking with the gout in my left hand which swelled very much went in to bath my elbows, neck went to bed Nov. 18th and from thence into my left knee, very pain full something of it in both feet lay in bed full of pain and no use either hands till Thursday the 28th and was then got out of bed the pain greatly abated could just go across room

January 1767.173

The ‘almanac diaries’ also mention ‘a cure for the yellow Jaundice’

attributed by Follensby to ‘the late L. Blakeny who cured great numbers thereby

in Ireland Minorca and the Kingdom, and which he never knew to fail’, but

Follensby is clearly not personally interested in the medical process, referring to

his experiences as a sufferer (and occasionally, as a patient), without listing

those medicines and treatments employed, or evaluating and relating their

relative efficacy.174 This focus on health matters rather than botanical

preparations is not uncommon in personal Early Modern English and Colonial

American letters and journals, but it is, perhaps, suggestive of a beginning

divergence in terms of ‘working books’, that is to say, rather than representing

the sort of personal anecdotal information we might expect from Early Modern

173 MHS.ms.S-288, unfoliated, Moody Follonsbee’s Diary & Almanac, (1765-1766). 174 IBID.

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and Colonial letters and journals per se, Follensby’s almanac diary, existing as

it does interspersed within a reference text, may indicate an association with

practical application which isn’t necessarily apparent in the ruminative, narrative

communications of an intimate letter or journal entry. While not a receipt book

itself, Follensby’s diary harks back to the domestic manuscripts in its

expressions of individual adaptation and ownership of medical material.

Follensby’s work is clearly not a communal compilation, however, but rather an

individual homesteader’s notes and observations, including those concerned

with health. There is a disconnect with the older European tradition, despite

Follonsby’s clear personal connection (several notes in the almanac margins

mention the comings and goings of acquaintances to London, for example).

Nor is this simply a question of gendered authorship: Paschall’s receipt book,

which is clearly derived at least in part from the earlier domestic norm, is equally

an instance of personal homesteader compilation.

There seems to have been a willingness of American authors to break

with those conventions in receipt book compilation which the majority of English

authors adhered to. For example, while there was variation in the degree of

cataloguing and indexing in the earlier English sources, as well as variation in

the inclusion or not of either preparatory or delivery instruction, these

manuscripts were typically fairly formal in that they were intended to act as

reference works, and there is little overtly personal narrative or information other

than that of attribution. This contrasts quite starkly with some of the American

sources. In the later Colonial works, we see a mishmash of individualized

standard domestic botanical receipts alongside recipes gleaned from learned

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text, popular print, and lay anecdote, as well as a good deal of authors’ personal

comment and a willingness to include the personal emotional responses to

health care issues and treatment already considered, which is entirely missing

from the Early Modern English works.

Elizabeth Coates Paschall’s receipt book of 1702, for example, allows for

a personal narrative to emerge which changes the nature of the communal

exchange: her direct anecdotal recipes bear little in common with the earlier

formalized receipt book carrying few personal identifiers. Nor is Paschall’s

emotive collection the only way in which Colonial manuscripts begin to differ

from their English prototypes; alongside the emotive content is an increased

reliance on popular print within the script sources. Margaretta Prentis’

Williamsburg work of the 1780s contains a far greater wealth of information

directly attributed to popular print than is typical of English sources. Her recipe

for ‘a certain cure for the cholic flux, Gripes or Indigestion’ is attributed to a

‘London Magazine, 1755’, followed by one of which Prentis writes ‘This Rec.

taken from a Newspaper, where it is said to be an infallible cure for the bite of a

Mad Dog’.’175 Yet another ‘For the Hooping Cough’ is attributed to a ‘European

Maz. Nov.1794’, with Prentis’ personal commendation that it is ‘a simple and

effectual Remedy’. Unlike Paschall’s work, which refers almost entirely to

personal exchange, Prentis’ work suggests that the oral origins of domestic

practice are being replaced by, or substantially enhanced by, text-based

sources. Earlier English and Colonial manuscripts clearly owe the majority of

their contents to personal sources, whether friends or family, and it is likely that

175 UP.ms.5035.3, Margaretta Prentis, Williamsburg Cookery & Medical Recipes, 1780s, pp.25,26.

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that transmission occurred via a personal route, whether oral or scribal, those

recipes with designated attribution in Prentis’ manuscript cite printed material.

This change in transmission and reception, which is reflected widely across the

eighteenth-century Colonial manuscripts, marks the end of the common ‘Anglo-

America’ domestic practice as such, and heralds in a greater differentiation

between the two.176

Scribal sources, particularly domestic receipt books, have been

examined by the thesis in Chapter Two as a means of gaining ingress into the

individualized expression of the communal botanical practice outlined in

Chapter One. Indeed, this Chapter has focused on the scribal medium by which

domestic botanical culture was expressed, rather than on the plants

themselves, as a means of identifying some of the key characteristics of the

overarching practice. These domestically authored sources speak both to the

complexity of the communal knowledge base and its transmission, as well as to

its flexibility and adaptation at the hands of those administering it. The question

of domestic authority and ‘agency’ (as a reflection of domestic claims of

‘authority’ over, and skill in employing, the botanical canon), has also been

examined here in order to provide a fuller picture of the botanical culture. This

has included consideration not only of individual recipes, but also of the detailed

adaptation and familiarity which domestic authors demonstrate in preparing and

delivering these medicines. Ultimately, questions of agency and authority

speak to both the communal, and the personal, relationships between authors

and the botanical culture they employ. In particular, reflection on the structured

176 Consideration of the difference in practice illustrated by Prentis’ manuscript is considered in the chapter on new world botanicals.

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expression of the common domestic culture in English sources may be seen to

give way to more emotive Colonial individualization, reflecting the development

of larger political and social schisms in the Anglo-American world, which will be

further considered in Chapter Six and in the conclusion. There is, however, no

question that the agency of domestic authors across the whole of the culture

determined that culture’s overall shape and character. Indeed, it is the

communal willingness of individuals to engage, adapt, and personalize the

herbal canon which gave the domestic culture its composite, ‘bricolage’ nature,

and provided a strong, common ‘little’ tradition in both England the American

colonies.

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Chapter 3. Popular Culture and Print

This Chapter looks at the role and influence of printed sources and

popular concepts on domestic botanical culture, as well as the converse impact

of the domestic culture on thinking and practice in the public sphere. The

complex composite nature of the domestic practice, while originating in oral

traditions, and largely evidenced in scribal sources, was responsive to, and

influenced by, printed sources. The degree and manner in which these printed

sources influenced the domestic practice were variable, both for individual

practitioners and households, and for the domestic culture as a whole. The

effect of literacy, here defined as the ability to both read and write, across

genders and social strata, is examined in order better to establish the

interaction of printed works and the domestic use and perception of botanicals.

The Chapter examines almanacs, herbals and vernacular medical texts as

exemplars of the popular knowledge and practice. It also investigates the

characteristics of settler texts, which will be discussed in the context of Anglo-

American practice in Chapters four through six. In further establishing what is

unique about the domestic botanicals, this Chapter lastly turns to examine the

multiple strands of botanical cultures: learned, popular, and domestic,

considering both those characteristics which are shared across each domain,

as well as establishing differences between each.

Printed text sources have long been regarded as the mainstay reservoir

for information specific to engaging with past medical understanding and theory

in general, and with past practical applications and knowledge surrounding

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medicaments specifically. David Lindberg writes of the importance of

transcribing oral information into textual resources as a means for allowing ‘the

formulation of criteria by which truthfulness could be ascertained’. He further

theorizes that from this ‘effort to formulate suitable criteria’ emerged rules of

reasoning, which offered a foundation for serious philosophical activity’.177 This

tendency towards categorization allows for a degree of rationalization within a

‘learned’ context. The systematic organization and ordering of a body of

practice itself establishes patterns which then enable the discernment of further

patterns, fostering the construct of a theoretical rationale which is then re-

applied to the original practice. Text sources enable practitioners to explore and

explain how it is that medicines work within the body, that is to say, ‘what they

do’. Further, this textual body of information becomes dissociated from the

human practitioner and environment, taking on a substance and legitimate life

of its own. It becomes an entity to which learned practitioners refer, and build

upon, a structured and rational body of work. The advent of printed source

material may then be read in terms of medical progress whereby there is a

greater linear process defining the body of knowledge as it passes through

developing cultures. Carole Counihan also considers this typical progression of

medical knowledge transference from the oral through to the printed in terms of

social systems, whereby the written forms supplant oral traditions, with an

increasing level of reflective knowledge corresponding to the physical

organization and order. For medicine, Counihan supposes that it is print which

facilitated ‘the ability to examine critically a list of ingredients, their mode of

employment, and [write] reports of the results, then to share and diffuse this 177 David Lindberg, The beginnings of western science: the European scientific tradition in philosophical, religious, and institutional context, prehistory to A.D. 1450 (University of Chicago Press, 2007) p.11.

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knowledge for the use of practitioners and their patients.’178 This allowed for a

progressive improvement in medical provisioning generally, and in the

regularization and efficacy of medicines in particular. In this line of thinking, the

ability to theorize, both the attempt to explain and the ability to predict remedial

results in a replicable manner, is dependent on exactly the sort of systematic

approach afforded by written, particularly printed, transmission. Just as

importantly in this construct, medical knowledge may be seen to be ‘evolving’

from an amorphous, unreliable, and changeable practice when implemented as

part of an oral culture. The domestic culture, in contrast to the learned culture

seen in written, particularly print sources, exhibits overly individualized and

anecdotal characteristics which even when transcribed into receipt books, is still

prone to subjectivity. In terms of medical constancy, a relatively stable, and

therefore reliable, structure and format are only read as having been attained

once the knowledge and practice are firmly placed within print cultures. There

is an assumption, widely accepted, that the efficacy of a body of remedial

agents is tied to this idea of progressive practice, which is in turn tied to both

theoretical models and to the printed medium.

The largely oral and scribal expressions of a domestic botanical culture

were, by their very nature, largely unconcerned with the theorizing, the ‘how’

and ‘why’, surrounding botanicals, instead focusing on simple transmission of

practical, empirical information, or questions of ‘what do you have to do to make

them work’. Thus, Lindberg’s observation that

giving permanent form to the spoken word does not merely encourage inspection and criticism ... it also makes possible

178 Carole Counihan, Food and culture: a reader, (Routledge, 2008), p.78.

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new kinds of intellectual activity that have no counterparts (or only weak ones) in oral culture

may be read as referring entirely to the plausible rationale rather than the

practical actuality of a practice.179 Reading ‘intellectual activity’ narrowly, and in

terms of the ability to theorize, Lindberg’s statement holds true. If, however, we

extend it to include the body of practice whereby anecdotal and empirical

information is directly shared orally and communally, it does not. Indeed, the

current scientific paradigm which privileges replicable testing, the ‘doing of a

thing’, as a means of substantiating a practice, holds more in common with the

oral culture than the intellectual theorizing often found in early text-based

cultures. Not only was the domestic culture consisting largely of the botanical

canon able to readily be adapted to given circumstances on the ground by

individual practitioners in a way that theory-bound practice perhaps was not, the

remedial agents underlying this flexible approach reflected communal empirical

use (what was tried and tested) in a way that medicines administered according

to theoretical models did not. ‘Learned’ medicine was not only highly

dependent on elite theory rather than practical application, but it was also keen

to embrace the use of new, highly active, agents into both theoretical models

and patients’ sick rooms, with varying results.180 The domestic culture, drawing

on inherited practice, may be seen to be far more circumspect in terms of

adopting powerful new products: they typically used chemical agents, for

example, far less frequently than professional practitioners. The domestic

culture here may be typified as consisting of an inherently conventional and

179 Op.cit, p.11. 180 Cf. Whitfield J. Bell, The Colonial Physician & Other Essays, (New York: Science History Publications, 1977); Paula De Vos, ‘European materia medica in historical texts, Journal of Ethnopharmacology, Vol 132, Issue 1 (2010), 28–47, re. the use of dangerous remedial agents, including antimony, mercury, arsenic, etc.

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largely consistent canon of herbs with a circumstance-centred prescribing habit

based on empirical evidence and experiences, whereas the learned practice

was radical in its embrace of new ‘cutting-edge’ medicines, and commonly

theory-based in prescribing. Moreover, by making medicine a theory-based

practice rather than a practical one, the Early Modern professional practitioners

may well have condemned their practice to the largely ineffective. Indeed, as

will be explored elsewhere, it is entirely likely that the empirical, oral tradition

practised within Early Modern households was considerably more effective, in

measurable terms of ‘making people better’, than the professional practice. It is

entirely likely that any efficacy of the domestic botanical culture was a direct

result of its unwillingness to embrace the theoretical systematization afforded by

textual transmission.

Domestic botanical culture, as outlined by the thesis, is largely

determined by its materia medica, that is to say, it consists almost solely of

plant-based medicines, and these medicines, their preparation and application,

largely constitute the medical practice itself. Thus any practice, or source, which

also limits itself largely to a botanical canon of medicines, such as herbals,

exhibits as least some of the characteristics of the domestic culture. Likewise,

any text which is largely non theoretical, basing the intended use of a medicine

on its perceived action rather than on a humoral or astrological theoretical

structure, such as the vernacular medical works, also exhibits characteristics of

the domestic culture. The inclusion of theoretical frameworks, a wealth of non-

botanical agents, or the absence of practical instructions within printed sources,

on the other hand, may well be associated with more learned practice and

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thinking. Thus almanacs and herbals, regardless of authorship, typically contain

botanical-based medical advice, but this advice is often couched within

theoretical terms, thus exhibiting characteristics of both cultures. Conversely,

vernacular medical works, while generally authored by physicians, largely mirror

the botanical content and framework of domestic sources, while eschewing

theoretical rationale, thus representing a sort of domestic, oral culture accessed

via a learned, print venue. In each instance, the variable defining characteristics

of the printed sources, particularly as this relates to their structure, botanical

information, ancillary instruction regarding preparation and administration, or the

inclusion of learned medical theory, suggest a range of relationships existed

between domestic culture and printed texts.

As considered in Chapter Two, a substantial amount of scholarly

attention has been given to analysing, describing, and tracing intellectual

medical theory across the period from Dioscorides through to Galen and the

later Paracelsian and ‘chymical’ practitioners.181 Much of the literature

surrounding Early Modern domestic practice likewise focuses on its assimilation

of this theory, largely as evidence of women’s appropriation of cutting-edge

scientific, elite, knowledge.182 Medical texts for domestic consumption had a

complicated relationship with their readership across the period considered by

the thesis. Some domestic authors specify the authorities they consulted, 181 Cf. Lois N. Magner’s A History of Medicine, 2nd ed., Chapters 3-6 (New York: Marcel Dekker, , 1992). Likewise, Roy Porter, spends a good deal of time discussing theory – Galenical, Renaissance anatomical, Paracelsian, etc. in his chapters on Renaissance Medicine and ‘The New Science’ in The Greatest Benefit to Mankind. A Medical History of Humanity from Antiquity to the Present (New York: Norton, 1999). 182 How women fit into this ‘scientific’ history of medicine specifically has been considered by authors also, as seen for example in Lynette Hunter and Sarah Hutton’s Women, Science and Medicine 1500-1700 (Stroud: Sutton Publishing, 1997). Examination of medical theory acquisition by scholars such as Elaine Leong and Linda Pollock is further discussed in the introduction,

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perhaps indicating that they felt both ‘beholden’ to these greater voices, as well

as verified by their association. In the late-sixteenth-century, Lady Grace

Mildmay wrote that

Every day I spent some time in the herbal and books of physic, and in ministering to one or other by the directions of the best physicians of my acquaintance.183

Mildmay’s willingness not only to consult, and to consult widely, but also to

acknowledge her authoritative sources, may well be seen to exemplify both a

willingness, and an ability, to play with the concepts of medical theory. On the

other hand, while of immense importance for intellectual work (and its

historiography), it could be argued that the removal of medical and medicinal

knowledge from the largely practical sphere had negative implications for

medieval and Early Modern regulated (elite, professional) practice, a situation

only mitigated in the case of Mildmay’s work by her continued practice in very

real, physical terms of actually observing, listening to, and consulting with her

patients, alongside reading elite medical theory.184 Moreover, while Mildmay

consulted a number of learned authors, Linda Pollock notes that ‘Avicenna,

Villanova, Da Monte, and Paracelsus’ are all mentioned by name in Grace

Mildmay’s writings, the majority of her receipts contain little overt medical

theory, but rather follow the typical domestic format: list of ingredients, written

preparation instructions, and detailed information on administration.

183 NR.ms. W/A misc.vol.32-33, 35, pt.1, fol.46, Lady Grace Mildmay as cited by Pollock, With Faith in Physic, The life of a Tudor Gentlewoman. Lady Grace Mildmay 1552-1620. (London; Collins and Brown, 1993), p.92. 184 An interesting comparison might be drawn, for example, between the experience of patients within a domestic setting receiving only household attention, and the well documented case of physicians dialoguing over the possible theoretical causations and their best remedial implications in the treatment of George III’s maladies.

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Leong comments on the influence of a number of regular practitioners on

the medical work of Elizabeth Freke (particularly Gerard, Culpeper, Moise

Charas, and George Bate), and Stine writes on the influence of elitist

knowledge in Anne Howard, Countess of Arundel’s manuscript writings.185 A

further instance of the individual author ‘legitimizing’ her own receipts by

association with expert opinion may be seen in the unique example of

approbation on the frontispiece of Elizabeth Digby’s receipt book. The page is

headed with the single word ‘Gerard’ followed by ‘Receipts Approved by

persons of qualitie and indgment, collected by Elizabeth Digby 1650’,

suggesting that Digby, like both Mildmay and Freke before her, is both familiar

with elite theory, certainly she has at least read Gerard, and is claiming

authority and authenticity for her own work by association.186 Yet while each of

these authors follow Mildmay’s example in citing authority on occasion, each

equally follows the older, communal, domestic format in their usual botanical

choice and use.

Catherine Field notes that the common lack of distinction between

culinary and medicinal recipes is fundamentally a Galenic tradition where ‘all

ingestible substances – foodstuffs, herbs, and medicinal compounds – were

thought to be endowed with humoral properties that could have a beneficial or

negative effect on the body’.187 This is actually quite a different assertion to that

of Pelling, to whom Field refers. Pelling’s earlier research considered the ‘vast

185 Elaine Leong, Op.cit.; Jennifer Kay Stine, ’Opening Closets’: The Discovery of Household Medicine in Early Modern England (PhD Thesis, Stanford University, 1996). 186 BL. Egerton.MS.G2197, Elizabeth Digby, receipts of Elizabeth Digby, 1650. 187 Catherine Field, "'Many hands hands':Writing the Self in Early Modern Women's Recipe Books" Chapter 4, Eckerle, Julie A. & Dowd, Michelle M. Genre and women's life writing in early modern England London: Ashgate Publishing 2007 p. 52.

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grey area of overlap between medicines and food, in which women had an

established role’, but the relationship between the two, culinary and medicinal,

is not here necessarily linked to a theoretical exposition (i.e. humoral), but may

be read in a more practical light: foods are nutritive and can give sustenance,

herbs are remedial and can give relief from ailments.188 This is an important

distinction. Field writes further about the shift between foods and medicines

relating to a change in theory with distinctions between culinary and medical

recipes appearing ‘as the gradual influx of Paracelsian medicine (with its

emphasis on chemical cures and treating a disease 'retrospectively') supplanted

older Galenic medicine, printed collections’.189

While there was a probable occurrence here within regulated medical

practice and print which later impacted on domestic medicine, the relationship

between Galenical theory and culinary/ medicinal associations versus

Paracelsian theory and culinary/ medicinal dualism is not evident in domestic

manuscripts. Indeed, for each of the small handful of extant domestic

manuscripts referring to elite theory we have at least two dozen which are

entirely non theoretical. And even for those personal receipt books which do

include theoretical material, such as the works of Lady Grace Mildmay,

Elizabeth Freke, or even the occasional reference to humours as seen in

Martha Washington’s manuscript, learned theory is not consistently or

universally applied. As already considered, even in Mildmay’s work, which

contains the greatest amount of elite theory of those manuscripts under present

scrutiny, the vast majority of recipes contain simple instructions of what to

188 IBID. 189 IBID p. 53

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include, in what manner, and for which particular ailment, without theoretical

underpinnings. Clearly the prevailing domestic botanical culture, even for those

authors keen to embrace learned medical practices, reflects a non theoretical

norm.

Nor is the simple inclusion of theory the only differentiating feature

between many printed sources and domestic culture. The very nature of the

information contained within sources itself was seen to change with the coming

of print. Indeed, Early Modern authors themselves were aware of the dangers

inherent in a system of transmission which exists solely within the printed

sphere as early as the seventeenth-century. John Aubrey wrote of the danger of

losing a wealth of oral information and stories due to this very phenomenon:

Before Printing, Old-wives Tales were ingeniose: and since Printing came in fashion, till a little before the Civil-warres, the ordinary sort of People were not taught to reade: now-a-days Bookes are common, and most of the poor people understand letters: and the many good Bookes, and variety of Turnes of Affaires, have putt all the old Fables out of dores’.190

There is a danger of assuming that each form of transmission is exclusive, and

of simply accepting a theory of ‘progression’ which suggests that oral traditions

‘grow’ into scribal ones, which then ‘develop’ into printed ones. Joseph Dane, in

looking specifically at the written traditions, disputes this idea of ‘cataclysmic

historical displacement’, writing that

any late instance of ‘the scribal’ challenges the notion of a paradigm shift of culture. Print culture (however defined) does not displace scribal culture (or at least scribal culture understood as scribal production, that is, as something evidenced by products of scribes). Scribal and print culture, if these things exist at all, coexist. They did in the late Middle Ages, they did in the Early Modern period, and they still do today’.191

190 John Aubrey, Remaines 140v as cited by Dragstra ‘Before Woomen were Readers’, p.43. 191 Joseph A. Dane. The myth of print culture: essays on evidence, textuality and bibliographical method, (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2003), p19.

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Yet Elizabeth Eisenstein successfully delineates how one might

reasonably differentiate between the two (scribal and printed) cultures, partly by

highlighting similarities between the scribal and the oral. For while printed texts

share a certain level of homogeneity, indeed, ‘early print culture is sufficiently

uniform to permit us to measure its diversity … we can estimate output, arrive at

averages, trace trends’, the same cannot be said of oral and scribal

traditions.192 Indeed, in tracing the adaptable nature of scribal culture, which

she perceives as being ‘so fluctuating, uneven, and multiform that few long-

range trends can be traced’, Eisenstein highlights the very permanence and

concreteness of the textual culture. Where oral and scribal traditions are fluid

and personal, print cultures are material and public – they are by their nature

traceable. This very traceability both makes textual content more accessible

(and likely to be referred to, for example, by historians), and also more

dogmatic: that content is more likely to become the acknowledged ‘norm’, both

by contemporaneous practitioners, and by subsequent scholars. Tracing this

(largely masculine, elite) intellectual and theoretical medicine as evidenced by

texts has been the norm for historians, rather than the exploration of those

traditional practices and that body of traditional knowledge that were oral, fluid,

and feminine in nature. This trend has perhaps been fed by the assumption

that the very best knowledge and practice of a period is what makes it into print,

which may not always have been the case.

192 Elizabeth L. Eisenstein,The printing revolution in early modern Europe, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), p.8.

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Learned Theory and Literacy in the Domestic Setting .

A number of authors, including Stine and Leong, are interested not only

in how ‘learned’ theory was appropriated and adapted by domestic practitioners,

but each has considered the value of domestic medicine as an expression of

knowledge and communication networks within Early Modern English society

more generally.193 Leong has pointed out that domestic practitioners garnered

information from a wide range of sources, including private, public, professional

and charitable practices, tracing the impact of the ‘popular’ medicine of the day

on personal domestic remedy making.194 Nor are these scholars alone in

suggesting that physicians and regular practitioners were just as likely to borrow

from domestic practitioners.195 In truth, it is likely that this was a two-way street.

On the one hand, ‘learned’ theory impacted on popular culture generally, and

household practice specifically, via authors like Culpeper, who mixed Galenical

approaches to diagnosis and prescribing with his own astrological theory. On

the other, ‘tried and tested’ empirical knowledge of the private sphere influenced

practice in the public domain, with remedies originating in domestic still rooms

moving into physicians’ practices.196 Pollock points to the inclusion of ‘recipes

193 Linda Pollock, With Faith and Physic: The life of a Tudor Gentlewoman. Lady Grace Mildmay 1552 – 1620, (London: Collins & Brown. 1993),p 98. It should be noted, however, that contrary to Pollock’s hypothesis that Mildmay’s receipts were ‘not typical of other extant early modern family recipe collections’ in their familiarity with authoritative theory of the day, a number of authors’ manuscripts contain similar material: Freke’s analysis of single herbs, for example, contains material from both Gerard and Culpeper, including some of the latter’s theoretical humoral theory. Elaine Leong, ’Making Medicines in the Early Modern Household‘, Bulletin History of Medicine, 2008, 82, p.151; Jennifer Kay Stine, ’ Opening Closets: The Discovery of Household Medicine in Early Modern England‘ (unpublished Ph.D thesis, Stanford University, 1996) . 194 Elaine Leong, ’Making Medicines in the Early Modern Household‘, pp147, 151, 153. 195 Cf. Doreen Evedon Nagy’s examination of the recipes of one Dr Symcotts in her essay, ’Lay and learned medicine in early modern England‘, Health, disease and society in Europe 1500-1800, p41. Nagy writes that ‘further research is needed to establish firmly the debt which seventeenth-century physicians owed to lay practitioners of earlier generations’. 196 ‘Still’ rooms were domestic spaces used for the production of medicines, though this work probably occurred in the kitchen rather than in bespoke rooms in the majority of homes. The

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in private circulation in the late sixteenth- and early-seventeenth-centuries that

differed from contemporary publications but which could be incorporated in later

works’, while Fissell writes that ‘in England in the 1650s, printed remedy books,

clearly bearing the traces of their manuscript origins, became best sellers’.197

Vernacular works were indebted to the earlier domestic medical practice, but

equally true is their likely popularity within many Early Modern households.

Secondly, the popularity of vernacular medical works aimed at a

domestic audience, has been widely recorded elsewhere by a number of

scholars. For example, Michael R. Best traces the popularity of Gervase

Markham’s writings, noting the number of printings, not only of Markham’s

books, but of those further English editions accredited to other authors which

clearly plagiarized his work.198 Markham’s work was popular not only with

English audiences on the eastern shores of the English speaking Atlantic, but

also found its way to the American colonies: Mary Tolford Wilson points to the

copy of Markham’s work on ‘husbandry and huswifry bound together and for the

likes of Gowges &c’ listed in the shipping records of the Virginia Company of

London for export to the American colonies in 1620.199 Wilson also traces the

practice of authors ‘borrowing’, or in many cases, simply reprinting, whole texts

under their own names, specifically in relation to the ‘theft’ of Amelia Simmons’

term ‘still room’ is therefore often used to refer to the specific use of a space to distill aromatic waters. 197 Pollock With Faith in Physic, Op.cit., p 99., Mary Fissell, Introduction to the Bulletin of Medical History, special edition ‘Women, Health, and Healing in Early Modern Europe’, 2008, 82:p.9. 198 Gervase Markham The English Housewife, Michael R. Best ed., (Ontario: McGill Queen’s 1986), p. xiv, xv. 199 Mary Tolford Wilson, ‘Amelia Simmons Fills a Need: American Cooker, 1796’ The William & Mary Quarterly, Third Series, Vol 14, No 1, Jan. 1957, p.17. Wilson identifies the ‘Gowges &c’ as probably ‘one of Conrad Heresbach’s works’, on the Art & Trade of Husbandry, (London: 1614).

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early American cookery book. Both a full analysis of the extent to which earlier

domestic practice wended its way into authoritative texts, regardless of whether

they be vernacular works aimed at a domestic audience, or specialist medical

reference works, as well as research considering how these texts borrowed

from each other, provides grounds for substantial future research. Gauging the

influence and import of printed texts on the domestic botanical culture is difficult,

though current scholarship is making considerable inroads into doing so.

Domestic practitioners were undoubtedly capable of both reading and writing,

and equally, many were regularly accessing written material with medical

content.

Tebeaux writes of the popularity of vernacular works written for a lay,

domestic audience, which can, ‘if we use numbers of editions as an indicator,

tell us a great deal about the technologies used by women in their homes …

and about the literacy level of women readers who are often assumed to have

had poorer reading skills than men’.200 It would be wrong to assume that the

knowledge and skills surrounding domestic medical knowledge and practice

was primarily the province of an educated elite. On the contrary, those with less

wealth, education, and resources would have had less access to professional

health care and been more reliant on home self-care than privileged

households. Research into literacy rates, particularly for immigrants to the

American colonies, suggests that we need to be careful about what

assumptions we make regarding readership. By the end of the Early Modern

period, in both the British Isles and the American colonies, a substantial portion 200 Elizabeth Tebeaux, ‘Women and Technical Writing, 1475-1700: Technology, Literacy, and Development of a Genre’ Hunter & Hutton, eds. (1997), Women, Science and Medicine 1500-1700 (Sutton Publishing, 1997), p.29.

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of the populace was literate; this is particularly true of Puritan communities

where an ability to read the Bible was highly valued.201 Lawrence Cremin writes

that ‘estimates of adult male literacy in England ran from 48 percent in the rural

western midlands to 74 percent in the towns ... adult male literacy in the

American colonies seems to have run from 70 percent to virtually 100

percent’.202 Likewise, Kenneth Lockridge found that

in 1660, 60 percent of New England males signed their wills; it was 70 percent in 1710, 85 percent in 1760, and 90 percent by 1790. He estimates that half of those unable to sign wills could read. Thus, there was practically universal adult male literacy in New England by 1790,

with only a slightly lower level of female literacy in the same population

group.203

Considering the likelihood of widespread literacy across Anglo-American

society, we may reasonably assume that print played a substantial role in

domestic botanical culture across social strata. Indeed, it is unlikely that early

manuscripts and receipt books are solely indicative of an elite domestic

201 Geoff Baker and Ann McGruer, ed., Readers, Audiences and Coteries in Early Modern England, (Cambridge Scholars Press, 2006): Between 1500-1700 literacy rates in England underwent a sizeable increase. Estimates based primarily on the number of individuals who could sign their name suggest that throughout the seventeenth century, for instance, male literacy rose from thirty percent to almost fifty percent, and female literacy from ten percent to at least thirty percent. However, these figures may underestimate the actual extent to which the ability to read was spread throughout the populace. Margaret Spufford has shown that in the seventeenth-century children were generally taught to read before the age of seven, though not taught to write until they were eight. Due to the economic circumstances of many families children were often withdrawn from school when they were capable of paid labour, which was usually at the age of seven. Hence, it seems probable that reading skills were much more widespread than statistics based on the number of individuals who could sign their name would suggest. Similar arguments apply to female literacy. 202 Lawrence A. Cremin, American Education: The Colonial Experience, (Harper & Row, 1970), p.546. 203 Kenneth Lockridge (1974) Literacy in Colonial New England; An Enquiry into the Social Context of Literacy in the Early Modern West, ( W. W. Norton & Company, 1974), cited by Michael Schudson, Discovering the news: a social history of American newspapers (Basic Books, the University of Michigan, 1978), p.39.

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practice, while the later vernacular works speak primarily to a wider readership:

the relationship between text and domestic culture is more complex than this

simple equation, and reflected wide community variations in domestic use of

botanicals and in household literacy rates. Further to Fissell’s admonition that

availability of a particular text (i.e. almanacs), while suggesting a popular and

widespread readership, does not necessarily imply ‘that this book was therefore

read by cowherds and clodplates’, or at least not read solely by the unlearned,

so the existence of a handwritten manuscript does not by necessity mean that

the author was a gentlewoman or member of an elite household. Reading

further into burgeoning literacy rates and acquisition of ‘popular’ vernacular

works, Fissell questions both the readership and the readers’ relationship to the

text into a quasi-substantive relationship whereby ‘our imaginations can dream

up a plethora of potential encounters between reader and book’, and as an

extension, perhaps, between communities and individuals within communities

and written knowledge more generally. While there may well be a correlative

relationship between the author’s manuscript and vernacular works of the time,

it is equally possible that Fissell’s ‘encounters’ may be extrapolated to that

existing between a manuscript author as medical practitioner and the botanicals

which she utilizes and transcribes to the page, both in cultural and in material

terms. Indeed, we may read personal domestic manuscripts as evidence of the

intimate relationships found in familial apprenticeships as well as in an

individual’s personal relationship with her medicines; the receipt books

themselves recording instances of ‘encounter’ within the wider domestic

botanical culture.204

204 Mary Fissell, ’Readers, text & contexts: Vernacular medical works in early modern England‘

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Domestic receipt books are interesting not only in terms of what they say

about the evaluation and transmission of specific knowledge, but also about

how health itself was perceived. This may be seen also in almanac sources;

indeed, Horrocks notes of the medical content found in early American

almanacs that

the purpose of therapeutic or remedy advice was to restore a healthy equilibrium to a body that had fallen out of balance. The purpose of regiment advice, however, was to maintain a healthy balance by espousing a way of life that would protect the body from a variety of potential dangers.205

Closer to the mark is Laroche’s assertion that ‘the knowledge of herbs and their

medical benefits was available through networks of derivative text and other

practitioners’.206 By extending our definition of ‘practitioner’ to include those

unprofessional, irregular householders carrying the ‘specialist knowledge’ which

Vansina spoke of, we find ourselves arriving back at a stage whereby an

admission of the role of oral transmission becomes paramount. For the non-

elite household, even those where there was a degree of literacy, there may

well have been an inability to write, or even to read, script. Rather than the rise

of vernacular texts owing its success to ‘the demise of the oral tradition as the

major method of transmitting instructions for tasks necessary to the working

lives of both men and women’, it is entirely possible that vernacular works

initially served to augment and reaffirm the oral practice, before largely

supplanting it.207 Moreover, as Tebeaux notes, a substantial number of

in The Popularization of Medicine, 1650-1850, Roy Porter, ed. (London: Routledge, 1992), pp. 72-96. 205 Thomas A. Horrocks, Popular Print and Popular Medicine. Almanacs and Health Advice in Early America. (University of Massachusetts Press, 2008), p.67. 206 Rebecca Laroche, Medical Authority and Englishwomen’s Herbal Texts, 1550-1650, (Ashgate: 2009), p.8-9. 207 Elizabeth Tebeaux, ‘Women and Technical Writing, 1475-1700: Technology, Literacy, and Development of a Genre’, Women, Science and Medicine 1500-1700, Hunter & Hutton, eds., (Sutton Publishing1997), p.30.

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vernacular works, both medical and other, had female authorship by ‘the closing

decades of the seventeenth century’.208 The gradual transitioning of the female

‘voice’ from domestic oral and scribal traditions into printed text seems to have

coincided with the eventual erosion of the shared domestic Anglo-American

culture towards the end of the eighteenth-century. This is further reflected in a

general reduction in domestic medical receipt book production in both Early

Modern England and Colonial America, with growing reference to, and inclusion

of, matter from printed sources into those domestic sources which were still

being produced. It may be seen that women’s embrace of print sources within

the home coincided with, and perhaps reflected on, a growing dependency on

‘learned’ knowledge and practice across the eighteenth- and into the

nineteenth-centuries. Prior to this point, however, the domestic receipt books

provided the primary platform for, and resource of, the domestic culture.

Almanacs

Almanacs have been widely treated as important repositories and

sources of domestic knowledge by the literature, and certainly a good deal of

cross-over between the popular botanical culture expressed in almanacs, and

that of the domestic sphere, existed.209 Alongside the vernacular herbals and

specialist medical texts, a printed source of medicinal knowledge of import for

the domestic practitioner is to be found in almanacs. Mary Fissell writes that

208 Tebeaux, IBID, p.31. 209 Cf. Thomas A. Horrocks, Op.cit.; Lauren Kassell, ‘Almanacs and Prognostications’, chapter 31 in The Oxford History of Popular Print Culture, Volume One: Cheap Print in Britain and Ireland to 1660, Joad Raymond, ed., (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012); Louise Curth, ‘The medical Content of English Almanacs 1640 – 1700’, Journal of the History of Medicine and Allied Sciences, Vol 60, Number 3, (2005), 255–282

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‘next to the Bible, almanacs may have been the most common form of the

printed word found in English households’.210 Likewise, Louise Curth, in

focusing her examination of popular medical knowledge on ‘the golden age’ of

English almanacs between 1640 and 1799 speaks of their ‘appeal to different

levels of literate society, with the unlettered often sharing in their content when

read aloud’.211 Thomas Horrocks goes so far as to write of the American

almanac tradition that ‘because its popularity spread through almost every level

of American society, the almanac was, in effect, a microcosm of that society’.212

And, in her examination of the print history of the seventeenth-century

astrologer William Lily’s Erra Pater, Fissell demonstrates parity in the appetite

for vernacular works in both Great Britain and the American colonies throughout

the eighteenth-century.213 What is clear from all of the scholarship is that

almanacs were extremely popular across the Anglo-American spectrum, and

throughout the late Early Modern period. In her further analysis of the material

culture of these publications, Fissell points to a clear intention of popular

dissemination, considering the thickness, weight, and worth of the paper, the

quality of the woodcuts, and the cost of the edition generally, finding that the

totality indicates a likely availability and readership across social strata

independent of evidence of actual ownership as illustrated by finding texts in

surviving libraries, or reference to them in receipt books, inventories,

catalogues, or personal correspondence. 210 Mary Fissell, ’Readers, text & contexts: Vernacular medical works in early modern England‘ in The Popularization of Medicine, 1650-1850, Roy Porter, ed. (London: Routledge, 1992), pp. 72-73. 211

Louise Curth, ‘The Medical Content of English Almanacs 1640-1700, Journal of the History of Medicine and Allied Sciences, Volume 60, number 3, 2005, p.257. 212 Thomas A Horrocks, Popular Print and Popular Medicine. Almanacs and Health Advice in Early America, Massachusetts, University of Massachusetts Press, 2008, p.2. 213 Mary Fissell, Op.cit, p.72-73. The American publications come later, in the 1790s, as opposed to the more regular prints available and consumed in Great Britain from the early 1700s – the earliest edition being 1535.

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Commonality of practice between domestic and popular medical cultures

may be read in recipes across sources. Thomas Horrocks notes a number of

specific botanical remedies aimed at treating dropsy cited in almanacs,

including the use of artichokes:

Poor Richard improved for 1764 offers a dropsy cure that includes artichoke leaves. The same remedy subsequently appeared in the South-Carolina & Georgia Almanack for 1767 and the Poor Will’s Almanack for 1771.214

Artichoke as a specific remedy for dropsy, or oedema, was common. For

example, Gerard’s Herball notes that ‘some write that if the buds of young

Artichokes be first steeped in wine, and eaten, they provoke urine …’ with an

interesting side effect:

I find moreover that the root is good against the rank smell of the arme-holes, if when the pith is taken away the same root be boiled in wine and drunk, for it sends forth plenty of stinking urine, whereby the rank and rammish savour of the whole body is much amended.215

Yet this particular use is not typically borne out in the domestic receipt books.

Indeed, artichoke is almost never referred to in Early Modern English and earlier

Colonial domestic sources. Instead, there are numerous references to carduus,

also plants of the thistle family, of which there are several medicinal members.

For example, Freke’s receipt book contains a recipe specifying that ‘The Seeds

off Cardus Benedictus stampt and drunk doth help the Griefs, pains, & prickings

off the Side, and the Griping In the Guts’. Likewise, there are numerous

remedies containing carduus in Mary Glover’s manuscript, ranging in use from

214 Thomas A. Horrocks, Popular Print and Popular Medicine. Almanacs and Health Advice in Early America, (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 2008), p.47. 215 Gerard’s Herball (London: 1633).

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an expectorant through to a carminative.216 We don’t see ‘artichoke’ specifically

identified in a domestic source until Margaretta Prentis’ Virginian manuscript of

the last 1780s. She writes ‘For a Dropsy’:

Take the large Leaves that grow on the stem of the artichoke, wipe not wash them, stamp them in a mortare, and strain out the juices thro a linen cloth forcing it out. Then put a pint of the juice into a quart Bottle with a pint of good Madeira Wine, or Mountain if the other cannot be had; take three spoonfuls every morning fasting & three … [before] bed.217

The diversity of application and use in domestic works examined here is

an interesting one. That these women were using, observing, reflecting, and

commenting on remedies both within their own households, and amongst their

coteries, is clear. Yet if the majority of domestic authors seem to be passing

along one practice, Prentis is accessing another altogether. Indeed, Prentis’

use of texts as a primary source of information, which has already been

considered in Chapter Two, is well illustrated here. While the earlier English

and Colonial domestic authors are using the term, and quite possibly the

different plant, Carduus benedictus, Prentis’ use has evolved to reflect the

American almanac version of the remedy from Poor Richard’s Almanac, based

on artichoke, or Cynara scolymus, itself derived from Gerard. Again, the fluidity

and personal willingness to adapt and adopt within domestic practice reflects an

immediate agency and practice at work entirely typical of domestic cultures. It

is the ability of the culture as a whole to embrace new source material which is

a hallmark of its basic nature.

216 BL.ms. A45718, Elizabeth Freke, Receipt Book, p.411; BL.ms.A57944, Mary Glover, Receipt Book, 1688. 217 UV.ms.5034.3, Margaretta Prentis Williamburg Cookery and Medical Recipes, 1780s, p.13.

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Much has been made of the medical content of almanacs and their

impact on Early Modern domestic medicine.218 It is important to note, however,

that not all almanacs contained much by the way of medical content, and quite

a few none at all. The sole reference to anything even vaguely ‘medical’ in Ben

Franklin’s Poor Richard’s Almanack of 1753, for example, is the classic ‘Zodiac

Man’, which relates external human anatomy to astrology. Moreover, this

inclusion almost feels like a sop to those popular expectations demanding both

astrological and medical content, the rest of the work consisting entirely of

seasonal and climatic information as well as scientific exposition of the Earth’s

place in the Solar system.219 Alongside the likelihood that almanacs (and other

popular medical texts) influenced domestic medical practice, there is substantial

proof that often the household practices provided the original material which

was later resold as ‘authoritative’ advice in almanacs and other vernacular

works. While Thomas Horrocks does not analyse the medical content per se,

he includes a facsimile of The Franklin Almanac of 1838 attributing the use of

indigo (Baptisia tinctoria) in the treatment of croup to a mother. Franklin’s

specifies that this was cited originally in the Montreal Transcript:

The Croup

A mother, says the Montreal Transcript, gives as/ an effectual remedy for the croup – a tea spoon full of/ the solution of a piece of indigo, about the size of a pea, in a/ pint tumbler of luke warm water.

218 Mary Fissell, Thomas Horrocks and Roy Porter all discuss the importance and impact of vernacular works for domestic medicine. Louise Curth speaks of those studies on popular medical books, which, while they ‘have contributed greatly to our understanding of contemporary medical believes and practices … have failed to properly recognize the effect that almanacs had on early modern medicine’. ‘The Medical Content of English Almanacs 1640-1700’, Abstract, Journal of the History of Medicine and Allied Sciences, Vol.60, Number 3, 2005, p.255. 219 Ben Franklin’s Poor Richard’s Almanack of 1753. It should be noted that later versions of Poor Richard’s did contain ‘cures’ and ‘remedies’.

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This sort of roundabout transmission is entirely in keeping with earlier oral and

scribal, non-elitist, communal forms of knowledge transference. The young

woman, on being advised to try Baptisia by her mother, an aunt, or female

neighbour, and finding that it works (Baptisia is a potent anti-bacterial immuno-

stimulant), then shares her information with a roving local reporter, whereafter

the story is then picked up by Franklin’s.220 In this instance, the almanac reflects

a popular culture which exists parallel to the domestic botanical culture. The

young woman’s household practice is removed from the domestic sphere, twice

transcribed, and assimilated into a public practice.

The transmission of information between domestic and public cultures

may be further traced via the recipe for a ‘Lucatella’s balsam’. A version of this

remedy appears in Franklin’s American almanac Poor Will’s in 1711. Several

earlier instances may be found across the receipt book sources, however,

particularly in early–seventeenth-century English manuscripts. Examples

include not only the ‘Lucatella’ recipe of 1690 attributed to Northamptonshire’s

Lady Dolben already discussed, but also a ‘Lucatella’s Balsome’ in Mary

Dogget’s Receit book of 1602 and ‘Lucatilles Balsome admirable for wounds the

Best way’ in Anne Glyde’s receipt book of 1656. 221 Elaine Leong also notes a

recipe for ‘Lucatella’s Balsame’ in Elizabeth Freke’s manuscript of 1712, and

Martha Washington included a recipe for a pomatum attributed to ‘Lady Lucas’

220 The Franklin Almanac 1838 (Philadelphia: 1837) as reproduced in T.Horrocks, Popular Print and Popular Medicine, Op.Cit., p. 26. 221 LC.ms.88209869, Lady Elizabeth Dolben’s Cookery Book, c. 1690 writes ‘This receipt was given by Lucatello to my Grandmother Mulso’ p.166.; BL.Add.ms.27466, f.67-68, f.290, Mary Dogget’s Receit book, ‘Lucatella’s Balsome’; BL.Add.ms.45196, unfoliated, Anne Glydd’s Receipt Book. Poor Will’s cited in Thomas Horrocks’ Popular Print and Popular Medicine, p. 53 – ‘Lucatella’s balsam’ is also discussed p.43.

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(c.1749) which may be related to the earlier Lucatella remedies, speaking to the

continuity of tradition.222

Transmission of named recipes such as Lucatella’s Balsom, Parcelsus’

plaster, and so on, suggests a shared culture, whether this is derived from a

learned authority, or reflects inherited communal authority, as do instances

where multiple sources advocate similar practical botanical applications. For

example, a list of botanicals specific ‘for treating disorders of the eyes’, which

includes ‘fennel, celandine, eye-bright and vervine’, is to be found in Swallow’s

English Almanacke of 1653. An almost identical list of herbs to that listed Mary

Doggett’s recipe for a ‘most notable water approved, to Clarify ye Eyes from

Dimness of sight’ written in 1602, which calls for ‘the Juice of fennel of

Cellendine of Rue of Eye bright of each 2 Ounces’, and Elizabeth Digby’s recipe

of 1650 calling for ‘Selfe-heale, Fennell, Salladine, … and Rue’ in her water ‘for

sore eyes’. 223 Both of the domestic recipes predate the vernacular work, each

calls for a specific botanical, celandine, in the treatment of eye related ailments,

and none contains a theoretical rationale. The three household recipes clearly

illustrate the communal nature of the domestic practice prior to, and couched

within, the popular vernacular work. Domestic authors typically do not refer to

printed sources, however, but rather cite individuals. In some cases this is a

clear acknowledgement of individuals’ contributions of recipes (as discussed in

Chapter Two), and in other an acknowledgement of remedies with inherited

222 Freke’s remedy is noted in Leong, ‘Making Medicines in the Early Modern Household’, Bulletin of The History of Medicine, 2008, 82: p.164; while Washington’s ‘To Make my Lady Lucas Pummatum’ is found in Martha Washington’s Booke of Cookery and Booke of Sweetmeats Karen Hess trans., Op.cit, fol.323., p.441. 223 John Swallow, An Almanacke, Cambridge: 1642, sig.A3v, as cited in Curth, ‘Medical Content of English Almanacs’, IBID; BL.Add.ms.27466, f.24, Mary Doggett’s Receipt book; BL.Egerton.ms.2197, fol.10v, Elizabeth Digby’s Receipts.

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currency across the common culture such as ‘Paracelsus’ plaister’, ‘Gascoyne’s

powder’, or ‘Lucatella’s balsam’.

Luise Curth’s examination of the medical content of almanacs

unintentionally points to a curiously ambiguous relationship between these

vernacular works, their domestic readership, and professional medicine.

Indeed, her two concluding points are concerned with elite medical theory in the

first instance, and proprietary medicine in the second, and it seems clear that

these are the two areas of medicine which almanacs most clearly address:

learned theory and commercial product, despite the express aim of delivering

working, practical information to the working household producer of

medicines.224 There is little doubt that almanacs did purport to educate, inform,

and entertain a broad readership, and yet it is virtually impossible to prove that

they consistently did so. Almanac recipes often contain a theoretical rationale

and framework, whether humoral or astrological, or both and little of the more

practical information associated with a remedy’s making or its differentiated

administration. It may be that almanacs are taking practical recipes from the

domestic culture here, and repackaging them in terms acceptable to, and

prefaced by, the dominant ‘great’ medical culture of the period. Thus Lucatella’s

balsam, and the use of celandine for eye complaints existed in the domestic

sphere prior to their inclusion in almanacs, but, with their inclusion in the printed

source, they acquire a veneer of learned authority and authenticity.

224 Curth, ‘Op.cit., p.281.

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Thomas Horrocks looks in depth at the stated purposes of almanacs and

other popular vernacular works in Popular Print and Popular Medicine, writing

that they were commonly intended to ‘meet the demands ...’ of ‘a nascent

middle-class readership that sought self-improvement, enlightenment, and

entertainment’.225 Both Horrocks and Curth assert that the medical content of

vernacular works was widely consulted by domestic readers, but specific

evidence for this is hard to find. Almanacs were popular and sold well, which

may well have been due in part to their medical content, but it may equally have

been down to their astrological, horticultural, climactic, and seasonal

information; certainly the last instance is likely in the case of the American,

largely agrarian community. Equally true is the possibility that these relatively

cheap, popular prints were bought as ‘light reading’, and that the information

contained within them was intelligently read in light of its quasi-informative,

quasi-entertainment role, much as many readers check their horoscopes in the

daily paper to this day. In any case, in light of the plethora of eclectic material

which almanacs contained and without proof of any direct reference to them

from authors; for example, the dearth of almanac citations by domestic medical

authors in contrast to the recognition of other (familial, social, and authority)

sources; it is difficult to gauge accurately whether almanacs were bought and

consulted as primary medical resources by households.

Herbals

Herbals constitute some of the very earliest, most successful vernacular

texts aimed at a domestic market. Their actual import for domestic medical

225 Horrocks, Op.Cit.

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practice, however, may be fruitfully debated. The influence of herbals within

domestic botanical culture is interesting. Their popularity was somewhat at odds

with their reliability as practical reference sources, introducing the question of

how, and why, they were read. Indeed, there is an ambiguity regarding the

purpose and role of herbals within households which is akin to that seen with

almanacs. In both cases, as Rebecca LaRoche noted of Parkinson’s Paradisio,

‘the text itself begs the question of whether it is a volume indicative of women’s

medicine or one of women’s leisure’.226 The thesis would argue that herbals

were used as adjunct reference texts to the primary inherited oral/ scribal

culture, supporting pre-existing knowledge and practice in some, though

certainly not all, households.

These texts differed from domestic sources in their purported application

of botanicals; where the domestic recipes are typically developed in pragmatic

terms, considering what to use, in what manner, and in what circumstances,

information in herbals is often couched within theoretical jargon and structures,

so that Culpeper describes Carduus benedictus as ‘an herb of Mars, and under

the sign of Aries’, and celandine as ‘an herb of the Sun, and under the Celestial

Lion’.227 In the case of both botanicals, the plants are recommended for

complaints similar to those found in domestic sources. Of carduus, Culpeper

writes that ‘by antipathy to other planets it cures the French pox’, while also

being of use to ‘strengthen the memory’, ‘cure deafness’, agues, other ‘diseases

of melancholy’, and ‘provoke urine’, the last mirroring what is typically seen in

other sources, as discussed in the section on almanacs. The juice of celandine 226 R. LaRoche, Medical Authority and Englishwomen’s Herbal Texts, Op.Cit., p.92. 227 Nicolas Culpeper, ‘Carduus Benedictus’ and ‘Celandine’, The Complete Herbal (London: 1653).

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is highly recommended by Culpeper to cleanse ‘the films and cloudiness which

darken the sight’, a use seen across sources, though again, Culpeper also

recommends its use for ‘obstructions of the liver and gall’, ‘the dropsy and the

itch’, ‘old sores of the legs’, and ‘tetters, ring-worms, and other such like

spreading cankers’. This polychrest approach to ascribing curative powers to

botanical agents on the part of Culpeper is entirely typical of herbals. While

overlap with other sources may indeed be found, as in the use of celandine for

eye disorders, or a member of the thistle family as a diuretic, to infer a

straightforward transmission here would provide a false reading, as the

appearance of continuity is derived from a very selective reading of the whole of

the information contained within the printed source. Because Culpeper’s

recommendations for the application of any one herb are so broad and

inclusive, it is relatively easy to point to his work as having set the precedent for

any one particular use.

A second key aspect to herbals lies in the nature of their content, as they

typically combined both visual and text information. Indeed, as Barry Reay

notes, ‘if popular culture in seventeenth-century England was predominantly

oral, it was also extremely visual’.228 A series of fundamental problems

regarding plant identification are to be found within both Early Modern herbals

and later, in almanacs; the majority of illustrations in Gerard’s Herbal were

largely taken from earlier works, with only sixteen original engravings, with each

illustration being further subjected to possible ‘artistic’ interpretation at each re-

issuance by subsequent draftsmen and engravers, theoretically losing

228 Barry Reay, Popular culture in seventeenth-century England, (Taylor & Francis, 1985), p.5.

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differentiating details necessary for proper plant identification in the process.229

Learning to identify plants first hand, of course, by viewing them in situ, whether

this be in the wild or in the potager garden, with a knowledgeable instructor,

would have been far more effective and precise.

With pictures which relay unreliable information and text which supports

multi-fold, polychrest applications for most plants, the herbals were clearly not

practical working sources. These books may have been valued as indicators

that the occupants were well-read and savvy to current medical literature, and

equally, their contents may have been referred to in order to reaffirm the

domestic practitioners’ own practice, but what is unlikely is that these sources

served as primary educating tools for the domestic culture. There is no doubt

that ‘reading took place within a culture [at least] still partially oral in nature’.230

Oral transmission, and its immediate transcription into personal domestic recipe

books, remained the primary form of transmission of lay medical knowledge

within Early Modern households. In this theoretical model, domestic familiarity

with both the identity and the use of plants generally, and botanicals specifically,

would be supplemented by vernacular works. Herbals, far from providing the

foundation of practical knowledge, would be consulted as general reference

works to reinforce the historical (personal or family) knowledge and usage.

229 Cf. Vera Kaden’s excellent discussion on the phenomenon of ‘borrowed’ plant illustrations in early modern herbals:The Illustration of Plants and Gardens 1500 - 1850, (V&A publications,1982), p.4. 230 Mary E. Fissell ‘Readers, text and contexts: Vernacular medical works in early modern England’, The Popularization of Medicine, 1650-1850, Roy Porter, ed., (Routledge, 1992), p.76.

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Vernacular Medical and Settler Texts

While almanacs may be said to reflect a generic, popular medical

culture, insofar as they contain medical information at all, and the theoretical

frameworks and context of herbals clearly identify them as products of learned

medical cultures, works aimed at domestic practitioners occupy a rather

different niche. Vernacular medical texts and ‘settler’ texts are both treated

here as examples of printed works of elite authorship intended for domestic

consumption, with each reflecting aspects of domestic, as well as public,

botanical cultures.

The typical layout of seventeenth- and eighteenth-century ‘Family

Physicians’ often closely mirrors that of the seventeenth-century English

domestic receipt book, each recipe listing the botanicals, followed by

preparation instructions. They also include practical information relating to

household provisions and equipment, are often indexed, and most importantly,

tend to limit themselves entirely to botanical medicines, and eschew theoretical

and dogmatic rationale. They are practical, jobbing texts, in the same vein as

the domestic sources. For example, George Hartman’s Physician of 1682 and

William Buchan’s Domestic Medicine of 1772 both mimic the composite picture

of transmission and knowledge found in domestic receipt books in both their

overall structuring, and in the nature of the receipts they contain. These follow

the standard domestic formatting, including list of botanicals, brief description of

application, typically alluded to in the title, and practical preparation instructions.

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Hartman’s ‘precious Water for the Eyes, that hathe restored the sight after some

years lost in a short time’ of 1682, for example, instructs the reader to

Take red Rose-leaves dryed, Smallage, Maidenhair, Hysop, Endive, Succory, red Fennel, Ribwort, Celandine, Eyebright, of each two handfuls; wash them, and dry them, and steep them in white Wine for twelve hours; then distil it, and wash the Eyes with the water.231

The botanicals are listed, followed by basic preparation and administration

instructions, with the purpose and value of the remedy communicated in the

title. This is simple remedy, practical in nature, containing exactly that

information necessary to communicate how it is to be made and administered,

and nothing else.

Moreover, individual vernacular authors, much as the domestic authors

considered in Chapter Two, traded ‘authoritative’ remedies, particularly those

attributed to physicians. For example, George Hartman’ Family Physitian is

diligent in identifying and crediting recipe sources, closely mirroring the style

and manner of the domestic receipt book in acknowledging a number of

physicians and noble ‘names’ as sources for his recipes.232 His Family

Physitian includes a ‘Recept Aproved for to cure the Dropsey approved by my

Lady Ganesford’, an ‘Excellent Pectoral Water against a Consumption’

attributed to Doctor Hornick, and ‘The Lady Garret’s Excellent Remedy for a

Cold or Cough; Approved’, alongside ‘A Corda…l Water of Clove Gilly flowers’

from the anonymous Sir K.D.233 This is very similar, for example, to recipes

231 George Hartman, Family Physitian, IBID, p.85. 232 George Hartman, The Family Physitian (London, 1696). 233 Hartman’s inclusion of ‘approved’ here undermines the arguments of current scholarship that similar approval by the authors of domestic recipe books demonstrates the individual domestic author’s competency as a discerning medical practitioner. More likely the stamp of approval is typically inherited along with the recipe itself. Thus, while someone, at some time, has ‘proved’

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found in the eighteenth-century Granville manuscript which includes remedies

for ‘Doctor Burges his direction agst the plague’, a ‘Doctor Butlers Receipt

against a comsumption’, instructions on how ‘To make Doctor Buggs sirrup of

Violett’, and ‘Docter Lowers bitter Infusion’.234 In Hartman, as in the domestic

receipt books, we see a desire to place botanical receipts within a broader

social context, with a concurrent co-option of elite or learned authority alongside

a clear association with, and placement within, the communal domestic culture.

A slightly different example of vernacular medical works mirroring the

pragmatic nature of domestic works may be seen in Gideon Harvey’s Physician

of 1676. Harvey’s work is less obviously drawn from the format, structure, and

presentation of domestic manuscripts than Hartman’s, but it is equally indebted

to the domestic culture for its straightforward, pragmatic approach to producing

and dispensing medicines. His work contains information on production

equipment, both what is likely to be needed by the householder, and how it is to

be used, along with their pricings, as well as advice on buying raw botanical

materials, again with pricings, and instructions for preparing and using same.

These instructions include information on the production of a range of generic,

and specific, botanical preparations, including instruction on how to make

lozenges, syrups, waters, and so on. While much of this content is superficially

similar to material which may be found in both almanacs and herbals, it is,

the remedy, it is by no means certain who this was. Thus, ‘Mr. Barnet's Excellent Diet-Drink, wherewith he cured three of his Children of the Kings-Evil; he had it from an able Physician’, is a thrice removed example. 234 FSL.ms.V.a.430, fols.41, 49, 54, 159, Mary Granville and Anne Granville Dewes’s Receipt book, 1740. This latter assertion, however, is contentious, for there are examples of women writing critical evaluations of remedies as well as ‘provings’ throughout the period for which we have extant manuscripts, and concurrently with the ‘scientific revolution’ of the late sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Quite possibly this sort of domestic commentary predated the elite ‘scientific’ methodology which was much slower to influence the prescribing habits of regular practitioners.

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again, notable in its lack of an associative didactic framework. Harvey’s text

contains no mention of medical rationale whatsoever. It is solely concerned with

communicating practical, working information, bereft of the ‘learned’ theoretical

context. On the whole, these vernacular medical texts may be read as mirroring

the non theoretical, practical content of receipt books in their focus on the

practical making of medicines, and their lack of didactic, dogmatic, theoretical

content. They often reflect a communal botanical materia medica, and, like

domestic sources, highlight individualized receipts drawing on that communal

canon, and containing practical, instructive information, while lacking the

learned theoretical framework typical of herbals, and occasionally seen in

almanacs.

While almanacs, herbals, and vernacular medical texts have all been

widely, and intelligently, read in relation to Early Modern English and Colonial

American domestic medical practice, ‘settler texts’ have not. The term’ settler

text’ is here used to a body of works written in order to explore, and promote,

knowledge about the North American Anglo-American colonies. It includes

works by explorers, antiquarians, travel writers, and settlers alike, and covers

material ranging from that which is purely descriptive of the North American

environs, to that which is practical and purports to advise Colonialists on the

needs of successful settlement. These texts have been read almost entirely

against the grain, and almost entirely as a means of providing clues to what was

popularly considered to constitute essential botanical provisioning for domestic

medical consumption. As they confer virtually no medical information, either in

terms of conceptual theoretical frameworks, or indeed, practical material relative

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to the formation and production of medicines, they are used by the thesis to

produce a standard picture of the most basic, pared-down version of an Anglo-

American domestic materia medica. Where vernacular medical texts may be

read as extensions of the domestic practice, settler texts are indications and

products of the trans-Atlantic, Anglo-American botanical culture. They presage

and describe exactly what botanicals were considered of vital importance for

household use, and are considered in greater depth in Chapter Four.

Learned, Popular, and Domestic Cultures

The influence of intellectual medical theory and its related jargon on

domestic botanical culture, as considered in Chapter Two, reflects a larger,

social, occurrence. Returning to part of the non theoretical nature of the

domestic culture argument broached earlier in this Chapter, we saw that there

was clearly a cultural appropriation, indeed, ownership, of much of that Early

Modern intellectual medical theory by discreet individual authors, whether

domestic or vernacular, though this was by no means the norm in household

manuscripts. Even so, a good deal of the conceptual underpinnings of Early

Modern professional medical practice may well be seen as belonging to popular

culture: these are concepts which perhaps inform the Early Modern

understanding of reality itself. In this vein, a wealth of material supporting the

acquisition of specialist knowledge by lay individuals may be found in a number

of sources quite apart from the domestic receipt books, from personal journals

and correspondence to literary musings.

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For example, Robert Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy brings together

and examines the learned theory of a number of prevailing theories attributed to

classical works, both ancient and Early Modern (including Hippocrates and

Galen), in his exploration of ‘melancholy’ (depression), with a particular

emphasis on humoral theory.235 Likewise, John Donne incorporates enough

medical theory and terminology in his works that D.C.Allen writes

medical data, anatomical terminology, physiological theory, apothecary’s ‘drug tongue’, and physician’s jargon elbow from the pages of his poetry and sermons

before pointing out that many of the titles for Donne’s poems are drawn from the

ars medica’, again demonstrating an assumed familiarity with medical concepts

on the part of his readership.236 Shakespeare refers to ‘humour’ repeatedly

throughout his writing, using humoral theory both as a means of enriching his

characterization;

he is as valiant as the lion, churlish as the bear, slow as the elephant: a man into whom nature hath so crowded humours that his valour is crushed into folly, his folly sauced with discretion: there is no man hath a virtue that he hath not a glimpse of, nor any man an attaint but he carries some stain of it: he is melancholy without cause, and merry against the hair: he hath the joints of every thing, but everything so out of joint that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no use, or purblind Argus, all eyes and no sight. 237

Further, Shakespeare uses humoral language as a means of defining setting

and tone: ‘all the unsettled humours of the land, rash, inconsiderate, fiery’. Both

235 Robert Burton, The Anatomy of Melancholy: What it Is, with All the Kinds, Causes, Symptoms, Prognostics and Several Cures of It. In Three Partitions. With Their Several Sections, Members, and Subsections, Philosophically, Medicinally, Historically Opened and Cut Up. By Democritus Junior (London. 1621; reprinted London: J.Cuthell, J. Nunn; Longman & co. 1821). 236 Don Cameron Allen, ‘John Donne's Knowledge of Renaissance Medicine’, The Journal of English and Germanic Philology Vol. 42, No. 3 (Jul., 1943), p. 322. 237 William Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida, Act 1, Scene II; King John, Act 2. Scene I.

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of these suggest that the underlying medical theory was widely enough

understood to be meaningful for his audience, for whom an individual ‘crowded

with humours’ or a land of ‘unsettled humours’ would have been instantly

recognizable. This is a simple, cognisant use of elemental theory to convey

meaning. While it could be argued that Burton and Donne were writing primarily

for an educated, elitist audience, Shakespeare was emphatically producing

material for more general and varied consumption.

By the end of the seventeenth-century, a range of medical theories are

being widely disseminated, and most likely well appropriated, by society as a

whole; they are no longer specifically the province of the elite, though their

medical implementation may have continued to be so. It is this question of

practice which then becomes important: indeed, it is possible that the theoretical

foundations of professional practice which are in some demonstrable ways

more widely accepted philosophical social truths, or at least recognizable

metaphorical language carrying a valuable cultural meaning, can then be

divorced from medical practice, including a non-intellectual, domestic one.

Thomas Horrocks writes that ‘the dropsy remedies [of almanacs] that promoted

depletion to reduce the unnatural accumulation of fluid were consistent with

humoralism’, and yet on a more pragmatic note, one could argue that using

botanicals with diuretic actions can be seen to encourage fluid evacuation from

the body, and hence might continue to be used, not because of their theoretical

humoral associations, but because they lessen fluid retention, thereby causing

obvious signs of swelling to disappear.238

238 Thomas A. Horrocks, Popular Print, Op.cit., p.53.

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Thus, in looking at the domestic manuscripts, one might question

whether remedies should be read in light of prevailing professional theory given

that that theory was demonstrably current throughout the popular culture of the

day, or whether they should be read more simply, as straightforward workaday

recipes. What is notable is not the few instances of elite theory quoted and

which have been seized upon by scholars to date, but rather the vast lack of

such reference in the vast majority of cases. Not only do the majority of

manuscripts consulted here lack any reference whatsoever to an underlying

rationale or theory of either action or treatment, how and why a botanical is

recommended, be that rationale based on astrological, humoral, or mechanical

basis, but the majority of recipes contained within manuscripts which do allude

to medical authority (for example Freke and Mildmay) are in and of themselves,

atheoretical. That is to say, while Mildmay may well quote prestigious authors

in her musings, and occasionally refer to the underlying theory justifying

particular recommendations, she is just as apt to prescribe botanicals based on

‘provings’ and experience. An example of the first of these may be seen when

she suggests the use of sarsaparilla, china [root] and lignum vitae (amongst

other plants) to treat a patient with ‘palsy’ who needed ‘the phlegmatic matter

much passing by his back’ strengthened. Each of the identified herbs were

considered hot and drying, thus fundamentally anti-phlegmatic in nature.239 A

second, atheoretical, practical remedial recipe is illustrated in the case of her

prescriptive differentiation in Laudanum production, where Mildmay writes ‘if it

be used for men use thereto oil of nutmegs but for women it is dangerous’.240

Both the lack of reference to either authority or theory in the majority of texts, 239 Lady Grace Mildmay, Receipt book [v.32, f.25v] as cited in Pollock, With Faith in Physic, Op.cit. p. 117. 240 Lady Grace Mildmay, Receipt book [v.32, f.25v] IBID, p. 136.

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and the very patchy reliance on it even amongst those authors clearly intrigued

by it, poses the question, not whether domestic practitioners were reading

textual sources at all, but rather a question of how they were reading them.

On the contrary, in looking at how domestic practitioners used botanicals

as a whole, it is vitally important to again consider the highly varied and mutable

nature of household botanical usage which is allowed by the lack of singular,

dogmatic authority. While there was almost certainly continuity of communal

practice, this was likely to have been multiple and complex and largely based

upon the shared common list of herbs and basic preparation formulae. Indeed,

the tremendous variety of botanicals employed in different households against

any one particular ailment illustrates the lack of a didactic remedial practice

drawing from a single acknowledged authoritative source. Further, it is this

adaptability, and lack of dogma, that is a hallmark of the domestic botanical

culture.

Thus we see a number of householders employing a wide variety of

herbs drawn from the shared communal canon, and applied to tackle exactly

the same ailment. For example, Jane Baber, writing up the remedy ‘for the

worms’ in 1625 instructs the householder to ‘boil, pound, and strain’ a

combination of ‘bears footte & Lavinder cotton’, a good draught of said to be

taken ‘morning and evening’ by the afflicted.241 While half a century later, Jane

241 WL.ms.108, fol.13v, Jane Baber’s Booke of Receipts, c. 1625. Early modern usage of the term ‘bears footte’ typically referred to either Helleborus foetidus or Alchemilla vulgaris (OED, p.). The first of these is toxic when taken internally, being particularly caustic for the alimentary tract - causing vomiting and diarrhoea. The second, (the current common name is ladies’ mantle), is a strong astringent typically used to ‘tone’ and dry tissues, of particular use in the treatment of diarrhoea. Neither botanical has particularly strong anthelmintic (anti-parasitic or

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Mosley of Derbyshire lists three different remedies for worms on a single page

of her manuscript, calling for a simple rosemary and honey compound to be

taken with bread in the first, a combination of ‘worm wood, rue, small leeke, of

each a handful, dry them in a pan till the are hot’ to be applied topically to the

afflicted’s abdomen in the second, and ‘a drought of posit drink’ containing ‘ a

handful of sage and roosmary every night … wherein hath bin boyled fore

cloves of garlick pilled and cut’ to be drunk in the third.242 Between the two of

them, Baber and Mosley recommend a total of nine different herbs in four

separate remedies for the treatment of worms; several of them, notably cotton

lavender (Santolina chamaecyparisuss), wormwood (Artemisia absinthium) and

garlic (Allium sativum), are all strong vermicides. If the learned botanical

discourse of the period may be, at least in part, typified by a dogmatic

proscription of plants according to a given theoretical framework, the domestic

culture allowed for, and was defined by, a much greater freedom of prescribing

practice.243

Complexities of Botanical Cultures

The movement of knowledge between domestic and public spheres

occurred in both directions, and via a plethora of routes. Alongside the

appropriation of ‘medical’ knowledge by domestic authors which has been well

worming) properties. Lavender cotton (Santolina chamaecyparissus) on the other hand, has a long traditional use directed specifically at the treatment of intestinal parasites. 242 Jane Mosley, Jane Mosley’s Derbyshire Remedies, 1669-1712, Joan Sinar, (ed.), (Derbyshire, 1979), p.S. Martha Washington, whose pantry lies in a Maryland kitchen of the mid-1700s, also writes of the ‘oyle of worm wood applied to ye stomac killeth worms’, much like the second of Mosley’s recipes. 243 The thesis is entirely aware that individual learned practitioners did adapt their practices, with the emergence of personal prescribing peccadilloes emerging, the underlying culture was proscriptive and dogmatic – indeed, causing much debate within learned circles. Nontheless, he underlying domestic culture was eminently flexible and adaptable.

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established by the literature, a co-transmission, or movement of medical

knowledge in the opposite direction, from lay, domestic sources into

professional fields of practice and dissemination should be noted. Harold

Love’s theory of transmission suggests that in some instances the sheer weight

and momentum of amassed manuscript material spills over from the private

domestic sphere into the public, printed sphere. This may well have happened

in the case of domestic receipt books and vernacular printings, particularly in

later Early Modern England, where the line between learned women and

households and their relationship to learned public thought was blurred.

Indeed, this may be interpreted as a sort of escalation of thought, with an elite

body of authority ultimately distilled from the accumulation of grassroots

practice. Love interprets W.J. Cameron’s work with Restoration verse in terms

of ‘the texts … contained in a substantial body of manuscripts can be assumed,

in the absence of countervailing evidence in the variants themselves, to derive

from single archetypes’, with an inability to draw connections between the

various manuscripts on the part of scholars put down to a kind of ‘blindness to

the nature and persistence of this culture’.244 In the case of domestic medical

knowledge regarding botanicals, this might be interpreted similarly, where the

momentum of common practice and thought eventually becomes so great that it

influences scholarship. In this instance, movement of recipes from domestic

manuscripts to almanacs and vernacular works may well have occurred in some

instances as a result of the sheer bulk of amassed material which is then

translated into the more authoritative print medium. The sheer volume of

manuscript evidence in this instance is then transformed into established

244 Harold Love, Scribal publication in seventeenth-century England, (Oxford: Oxford University, 1993), p.6.

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practice and given weight by its translation, first into the vernacular (almanacs),

and then by specialized (medical) texts.

However, it is equally possible that earlier transmission was more

organic, less systematic, more to do with ‘friendly’ or familial advice rather than

with the intervention of intentional collection. In this instance, single medicinal

recipes were traded in much the same way as single culinary recipes might be,

so that a particular recipe, whether by a singular author, or family, gained a

reputation for particular effectiveness, and thus becomes a shared commodity

in this more, organic, social manner.245 Indeed, parallel to, and perhaps even

richer than, the evidence supporting transmission of knowledge from a

professional elite down to a lay population, lies an abundant vein of evidence,

both in the receipt books, and in personal correspondence, demonstrating the

lateral transmission of knowledge between households and lay householders.

There is a commonality of practice at work here which suggests a degree

of transmission, if not delineating its manner. Indeed, this blurring of the lines of

transmission between oral, scribal, and manuscript transmission neatly

illustrates Love and Fox’s assertion of a complex, multi-layering of information

dissemination. There is no doubt that transmission and reception of botanical

knowledge within Early Modern Anglo-American households was a complicated,

messy business, incorporating the utilization of oral, scribal, and textual means.

245 Mrs Lyddalls ‘woorme plaister’ is mentioned in the Eyton manuscript, with the added information that ‘this doth not only cure of the worms, butt is also good in ye Measels & SmalePox & all sorts of Agews Surfeits vomitings Convultions & Rickets & also for Consumtions in your People & has bine suffisently approved in all thes cases & is of great use in all sorts of Colds or Coughs’. It is primarily a honeney plaster with capons, pennyworth, oils of mace, wormwood, and savin, along with metridate, alloes macerated therein. WL.ms.2323, fol.122v, Mary and Amy Eyton, Receipt Book, 1691-1738.

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That printed sources did come to first supplement, and then eventually to

largely supplant, oral culture in the transmission of domestic botanical

knowledge is undeniable. Counihan writes of ‘the widespread circulation of

printed works on cooking, etiquette and household management … at a period

when the changing socio-economic structure made mobility, social and

geographical’ possible. She also points to this dramatic change in the social

fabric as contributing ‘in a wider sense, to the weakening of sub-cultures in the

society, since the ‘secrets’ of one group were being made public to all others’.246

In drawing attention to the role of printed works in facilitating social change,

Counihan highlights their eventual impact on both the loss of domestic botanical

knowledge, and of its transmission. Conversely, the emphasis on its demise

serves to further draw attention to both the universality and the import of the

earlier practice.

In examining the relationship between printed sources, the popular

concepts they convey, and domestic botanical culture, Chapter Three of the

thesis has established that each is perhaps best seen as part of a greater, more

complex whole. Anglo-American botanical culture here exists concurrently

within public and private, learned and lay, spheres, with each bringing unique

practices to the whole. Moreover, that larger composite, bricolage picture is

itself an incomplete piece of the broader composite pictures of Early Modern

and Colonial medical, horticultural, and social histories. The bricolage nature of

the ‘little’ tradition of domestic botanical culture has been explored here largely

within this expanded context and via consideration of the varying degrees and

246 Carole Counihan, Food and culture: a reader, Op.cit.

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manners in which almanacs, herbals, and vernacular medical texts impacted on

it. This relationship has been examined particularly in light of those shared

characteristics occurring across cultures, as well as the clear differences and

defining features between them in order to highlight to unique characteristics of

the domestic practice. The Chapter has considered literacy in order to better

establish the possible impact of these printed works on trans-Atlantic domestic

botanical cultures. The influence of printed text on the domestic culture is

considered further in Chapters four through six, in light of their role in

establishing (and evidencing) transference of the Early Modern English

domestic botanical canon, and culture, to Colonial America.

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Chapter 4. Atlantic Cultures

Having established the complex bricolage nature of a ‘little’ domestic

botanical culture in Chapters one through three, this Chapter focuses more

specifically on the early, shared, trans-Atlantic, Anglo-American aspects of this

culture. The Chapter first looks at the shared domestic practice of botanical

production by examining equipment and agency on both sides of the Atlantic.

Reading probate inventories, vernacular reference works, and domestic

manuscripts, the Chapter establishes that people were actually making, and not

simply talking, or writing, about botanicals. It further looks to specific examples

of herb use which cross the Atlantic, establishing a basic shared materia

medica from both domestic receipts, and from settler text lists. The Chapter

examines key shared Aqua recipes which reflect both the common trans-

Atlantic culture and its ability to accommodate household differentiation, and in

so doing illustrates the degree to which this was a series of shared practices

embodying the key communal, and individualistic, characteristics of domestic

botanical culture. The Chapter finally considers the beginnings of a new

domestic botanical culture in the eighteenth-century, as the production of

medicines in Colonial households began to diverge from the inherited practice.

Tracing the broader impact of European, and more specifically English,

plant knowledge and practice on Colonial life, and the transmission of

knowledge and experience of American botanicals back into the English

practice, is critical in establishing evidence of a common domestic relationship

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with botanicals. Thus, a number of printed texts are consulted in this Chapter.

They are read for their capacity both to shape our understanding of popular

perception of botanicals, and to highlight those botanicals which were culturally

considered to be of particular domestic importance. Importantly, these sources

are clearly aimed at a wide lay audience, rather than at an elite, learned,

readership. Changes in trans-Atlantic cultures, or the changing perceptions of

trans-Atlantic peoples also impacted on reception of north American botanicals

into the European canon, as did the broader, non-medical, culture of botanicals.

This established trans-Atlantic botanical culture may be seen in specific shared

Anglo-American remedies, such as those for Aquas and green salve, both of

which will be explored in this Chapter.

The cultural placing of common Early Modern English and Colonial

American medical botanicals may be considered in terms of a shared ‘botanical

culture’ which is one strand of the much broader Anglo-American ‘Atlantic

culture’. ‘Botanical cultures’ is here loosely defined using the Plants and

Cultures of Europe definition, as ‘consisting of three interweaving aspects:

intercultural dialogue, plant biodiversity, and cultural landscape’.247 ‘Atlantic

cultures’ refers to both the shared, and the disparate, bodies of knowledge and

practices existing and employed specifically in the British Isles and the North

American colonies. Plants are here considered as agents with varied cultural

definitions alongside that relating to their medical action. Questions surrounding

the identification and naming of plants within this broad culture are considered,

as are instances illustrating trans-Atlantic parity and commonality. For Anglo- 247 ‘PaCE Project criteria (Plants and Cultures of Europe: seeds of the cultural heritage of Europe; Universities of Modena, Rome, Ravello, Bergen, Krakow, and Barcelona). PaCE employs the term ‘green cultural heritage’. ‘Atlantic cultures’ is dealt with in this chapter.

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American householders, much of the originating ‘botanical culture’ was a shared

one, and consisted of the inherited European canon.248 There is a good deal of

cross-pollination in trans-Atlantic botanical lists of the period, with knowledge

and practice originating in many cultures adopted into the Anglo-American

canon. In referring to plants of ‘old’ and ‘new’ world origin, the thesis means

plants existing in the European canon prior to colonization of the Americas in

the first instance, and indigenous Native American botanicals in the second. In

reality these lines were considerably more complex, with, for example, ‘old

world’ plants originating in northern European cultures, the Levant, or the Far

East. The European practices inherited by Colonial settlers, and the

appropriation of North American plants into the European canon, are both

considered in order to establish, and test the limits of, this shared practice.

Indeed, while the initial introduction of a very few North American plants into

British culture illustrates this shared greater British ‘botanical culture’, a growing

willingness to adapt and adopt new botanicals widely on the part of Colonialists

marked an emerging shift in botanical cultures on either side of the Anglo-

Atlantic. This shift is further explored in Chapters five and six. Here, we first

look at the original, European-derived botanical materia medica in terms of both

those individual plants valued by English and North American householders,

particularly in light of what was deemed essential to successful settlement, and

then turn to consider botanical preparations common to both. While many of

the sources consulted in this Chapter in order to establish this shared botanical

culture are not of household origin, they reflect the Atlantic culture shared

248 The English canon itself already contained a wealth of non-European plants, the majority of them at this point in time originating from either the Levant, or the Indian subcontinent.

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across Anglo domiciles of the period, reflecting the identified need and

perceived value, of botanicals.

This Chapter examines the transmission of botanical cultures across time

and geographically, focusing on ‘Atlantic’ cultures, as a way of furthering the

examination of the placing of domestic botanical culture and transmission

considered in depth in the first three Chapters of the thesis. Two primary

approaches towards Early Modern and eighteenth-century Anglo-American

culture exist: the first considering English speaking peoples living on both

continents as inhabitants of an expanded ‘Britain’; the second examining

‘Atlantic Cultures’ more broadly, and including a range of peoples and traditions

on either side of the Atlantic.249 For the study of botanicals, particularly their

use within the Anglo-American home, each approach offers important insights.

The ‘Greater Britain’ approach, as exemplified by Ann Leighton’s Early

American Gardens, lends itself towards the tracing of similarities and the shared

commonality of plants and practices between Anglo-American households on

differing continents, while the second, ‘Atlantic’ approach as pioneered by

Londa Scheibinger and Claudia Swan, among others, highlights differences

249 Excellent scholarship on the British Americas and Americans may be found Jack Larkin, The Reshaping of Everyday Life 1790-1840, Everyday Life in America (New York: Harper Perennial. 1989), and Rosemary O’Day The Family and Family Relationships, 1500-1900: England, France and the United States of America (Palgrave Macmillan, 1994), to name but two, while Londa Schiebinger, Roy MacLeaod, Claudia Swan, and William Keegan have all looked more widely at the interchange between a range of European nationalities and non-European influences. William F. Keegan, The People Who Discovered Columbus: The Prehistory of the Bahamas (University of Florida Press, 1992), Roy Macleaod, Nature and Empire: Science and the Colonial Enterprise (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001), Londa Scheibinger, ‘Scientific Exchange in the Eighteenth-Century Atlantic World’, Soundings in Atlantic history: latent structures and intellectual currents, 1500-1830 ed. Bernard Bailyn (Harvard: Harvard University Press. 2009).

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between the two which impacted back on each.250 For the purposes of this

thesis, the term ‘Atlantic’ is of particular importance as it allows for the inclusion

and examination of plants originating in those Americas not settled by the

English, but which were quickly and commonly in use within Early Modern and

Colonial Anglo-American households. This applies specifically, for example, to

the inclusion of Jesuit’s bark, (Cinchona officinalis), and Lignum vitae

(Guaiacum officinale). By both embracing the ‘Greater Britain’ concept of an

extended British empire which includes the American colonies, and using

aspects of Atlantic cultural theory and definitions, this Chapter hopes to uncover

meaningful ways in which plants crossed, and confounded, these culturally

defined boundaries.

Botanicals & Nomenclature - Issues of Identificati on

There is a lack of specificity and clarity of content and language,

particularly where the names of plants are concerned, across those sources

reflecting both domestic and learned cultures. Yet it is particularly important to

ascertain the identity of botanicals, as far as is possible, as the naming of the

thing carries implications for the practice as a whole. Moreover, the changing

and irregular naming of botanicals caused confusion regarding what actual plant

was used, and in what manner, for Early Modern and Colonial authors. For

example, the English travel writer John Lawson writes of being introduced to ‘an

odoriferous Root’ in 1702, noting it is

250 Ann Leighton, Early American Gardens: ‘For Meate or Medicine’ (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1986); Claudia Swan and Londa Scheibinger eds. Colonial Botany: Science, Commerce, and Politics in the Early Modern World (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2007).

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of a fragrant Smell and Taste, the Name I know not; they chew it in the Mouth, and by that simple Application, heal desperate Wounds both green and old; that small Quantity I had, was given inwardly to those troubled with the Belly-ach, which Remedy fail'd not to give present Help, the Pain leaving the Patient soon after they had taken the Root.251

Clearly the plant has impressed Lawson with its perceived efficacy, and the

range of its supposed application, and yet there was a failure to identify it, in this

instance, either by name, or by description. As all we are given is that this is an

aromatic root, without reference at all to the original plant, even whether it was

tree, vine, or herbaceous in nature, there is little hope of identifying it. Indeed,

Lawson’s wondrous botanical root could have come from Sarsaparilla,

Sassafras, Acorus, Liquorice, or any number of other plants. In this instance all

we can be certain of is that there was clear interest on the part of European

explorers in new world aromatic plants, with this interest feeding back into a

broader quasi-medical natural history narrative.

The difficulty of naming is also noted by the Virginian settler, Robert

Beverley, in 1705, who wrote that

Mr Heriot tells us of several others, which he found at Pamtego, and gives the Indian Names of them: But that Language being not understood by the Virginians, I am not able to distinguish which he means. Particularly he takes Notice of Wasebur, an Herb; Chapacour, a Root; and Tangomockonominge, a Bark.252

Both Lawson and Beverley address the particular issue of difficulty in identifying

indigenous plants by providing tables giving the herbs’ names in several Native

American languages as well as English in their works. Beverly writes further on

251 John Lawson, A New Voyage to Carolina, 1702, Op.cit., p.21. 252 Robert Beverley, History of Virginia, BOOK II. Of the NATURAL Product and Conveniencies OF VIRGINIA; IN ITS Unimprov'd STATE, before the English went thither. CHAP. I. Of the Bounds and Coast of Virginia. 1705. p.23.

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the issue, taking contemporaneous sources to task over the issue of translation

and nomenclature:

They call their Physick Wisoccan, not from the name of any particular Root or Plant, but as it signifies Medicine in general. So that Heriot, De Bry, Smith, Purchass and De Laet, seem all to be mistaken in the meaning of this word Wighsacan, which they make to be the name of a particular Root: And so is Parkinson in the word Woghsacan, which he will have to be the name of a Plant. Nor do I think there is better authority for applying the word Wisank to the Plant Vincetoxicum Indianum Germanicum, or Winank to the Sassafrass Tree.253

Further to this, separate authors seem to use different common names in

discussing the same plant, as may be seen in Lawson’s account of a wax

producing berry with medicinal properties in his New Voyage to Carolina of

1709, and Beverley’s account of a very similar plant in his History of the First

Settlement of 1705. In the first of these, Lawson writes of

Laurel-Trees, in Height equalizing the lofty Oaks; the Berries and Leaves of this Tree dyes a Yellow; the Bay- Berries yield a Wax, which besides its Use in Chirurgery, makes Candles that, in burning, give a fragrant Smell.254

While Beverley describes how

At the Mouth of their Rivers, and all along upon the Sea and Bay, and near many of their Creeks and Swamps, grows the Myrtle, bearing a Berry, of which they make a hard brittle Wax, of a curious green Colour, which by refining becomes almost transparent. Of this they make Candles, which are never greasie to the Touch, nor melt with lying in the hottest Weather: Neither does the Snuff of these ever offend the Smell, like that of a Tallow-Candle; but, instead of being disagreeable, if an Accident puts a Candle out, it yields a pleasant Fragrancy to all that are in the Room; insomuch, that nice People often put them out, on purpose to have the Incense of the expiring Snuff. The Melting of these Berries, is said to have been first found out by a Surgeon in New- England, who perform'd wonderful Things, with a Salve made of them. This Discovery

253 Lawson, John, A New Voyage to Carolina; Containing the Exact Description and Natural History of That Country: Together with the Present State Thereof. And A Journal of a Thousand Miles, Travel'd Thro' Several Nations of Indians. Giving a Particular Account of Their Customs, Manners, &c. London: 1709 P.55. 254 Lawson, Travels, Op.cit., p.89-90.

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is very modern, notwithstanding these Countries have been so long settled. The Method of managing these Berries, is by boiling.255

Although a number of plants may be described as producing wax-like berries

with medicinal, or pseudo-medicinal properties, the specific description of yellow

or greenish yellow was with a ‘fragrant smell’ or ‘pleasant fragrancy’ suggests

that the plant in question is a member of the Myrica family, commonly known as

Candleberry, or Wax-myrtle.

Confusion specific to plants exists also in medical contexts, even within

learned spheres. ‘The Lady Hewits great Cordial Water for all cold Diseases’

given in Hartman’s Family Physitian, for example, calls for the inclusion of

‘Lignum’, without specifying which Lignum.256 This could, of course be Lignum

vitae, but equally easily, might refer to Lignum aloe; and there seems there

would have been no easy means of identifying which Lignum was meant even

for the savvy Early Modern or Colonial householder, for each was in common

domestic medical use across the period. Lignum vitae, or Guaiac wood, refers

to a North American plant which acts as a febrifuge and muscle relaxant, while

Lignum aloe refers to Agarwood (Aquilaria agallocha) from southeast Asia

which has anxiolytic and astringent properties. Ambiguity remains also in terms

of the language employed more broadly, both by early authors and medical

practitioners, and by current scholars. Edward Winslow’s account of treating

Massassowat in the 1620s, for example, clearly distinguishes between ‘herb’

and ‘root’:

When the day broke, we went out, it being now March, to seek herbs, but could not find any but strawberry leaves, of which I

255 Beverley, Robert; Book Two: Of the NATURAL Product and Conveniencies OF VIRGINIA; IN ITS Unimprov'd STATE, before the English went thither p.22. 256 George Hartman, The Family Physitian (London, 1682).

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gathered a handful, and put into the same; and because I had nothing to relish it, I went forth again, and pulled up a sassafras root, and sliced a piece thereof, and boiled it, till it had a good relish, and then took it out again.257

Here Winslow is employing the then currently accepted technical definition of

‘herb’ as referring to either the herbaceous part of the plant, or to plants where

the main part used is the tender, green, growing leaf part. This is quite different

from using the word ‘herb’ to mean ‘botanical’, referring to any part of any plant

which is employed primarily as a medicine. Moreover there are instances of

authors using generic terms to indicate specific plants. Abigail Adams refers to

giving her son (and later, herself) ‘the bark’, which probably refers to the use of

Cinchona officinalis (Jesuits’ or Peruvian bark); while an eighteenth-century

English letter prescribing ‘the woods’ cited by Mary Lindemann in Medicine &

Society probably, though by no means certainly, referred to the Artemisia

species which includes Wormwood and Southernwood.258 The ability to read

these remedies effectively is very much tied to the immersion of the reader

within the broader botanical culture. Familiarity with both the common terms,

and their likely applications, allowed for domestic practitioners to quickly, and

specifically, place many medicinal plants into a meaningful context in a way that

individuals outside of the practice, such as Early Modern travel writers or

modern readers, could not.

The passage of time and distance from the botanical cultures

employing these terms engenders a greater likelihood of misreading the

historical information. For example, Parkinson refers to Echinacea in his

257 Edward Winslow, Young (ed.) Chronicles of the Pilgrim Fathers, p.320. 258 Mary Lindemann, Medicine & Society in Early Modern Europe (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999), p.227.

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Theatrum Botanicum (1755) when discussing a European thistle, and not the

popular American coneflower, Echinacea spp., which is currently associated

with the term.259 The first plant is a useful hepatic agent, related to the Carduus

family discussed in Chapter 3, while the second is an immune-system stimulant

from the daisy family. Further, subsequent scholarship’s role in confusing

botanicals may be seen in the analysis of plants found in the seventeenth-

century English travel writing of William Wood. For example, Wood mentions

‘catharres’ in New England’s Prospect:

Having done with their most needful clothings and ornamental deckings, may it please you to feast your eyes with their belly-timbers, which I suppose would be but stibium to weak stomachs as they cook it, though never so good of itself. In wintertime they have all manner of fowls of the water and of the land, and beasts of the land and water, pond-fish, with catharres and other roots …’260

This plant has been identified by the twentieth-century historian Alden T.

Vaughan as catnip (Nepeta cataria). Vaughan further points out that catnip (or

cat mint) is of European origin, suggesting either that Wood was incorrect in his

overview of indigenous diet, or that there was a very early Native American

adoption of European imports. A more likely identification of catharres is Typha

latifolia, or the common American cattail, both because this is an indigenous

plant which has long been used as a foodstuff, unlike catnip which really is a

medicinal herb, and also because it is typically the root which is cooked and

consumed in autumn and winter, and virtually all parts of the plant are edible at

some point in the calendar year, unlike catnip where only the folia, or green

herbaceous portion of the plant, is used (and this never as a vegetable). It is

highly unlikely that Wood would be unfamiliar with Nepeta, which is a common 259 John Parkinson, Paradisi in Sole: Paradisus Terrestris (London, 1629). 260 William Wood, Alden T. Vaughan, ‘Chap.6 ‘Of Their Diet, Cookery, Mealtimes, and Hospitality at Their Kettles’. ’, New England’s Prospect, London: 1634, p.86.

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herbaceous plant of the mint family. Thus, current literature further compounds

any possible original confusion regarding plant identification, in this instance

with clear old world, new world, connotations whereby the new world plant is

given an old world name by the original authors, and subsequently wrongly

identified in the literature. Examples of this conflation of the new and the old

world may be seen in natural histories more broadly, as in the case of the ‘robin’

which refers to both the European Erithacus rubecula and the American Turdus

migratorius. What is notable in both examples considered here is the lack of

specificity in texts designed to inform and educate. Either there is an

assumption on the part of the authors that the differences in plants do not

matter, which is unlikely given the entirely differing uses in each instance, or

there is an assumption of competency on the part of the domestic reader to

discern what plant is actually meant. The ambiguity of named new world plants

included here may therefore be read as supporting a broad social

acknowledgement of competency and knowledge inherent in the shared Anglo-

American domestic culture which has been lost to modern readers.

Atlantic and Anglo-American Cultures

Londa Schiebinger writes that ‘historians and theorists of Colonialism

have developed various models for understanding Colonial science ...

traditionally, these models have placed Europe at the epicentre of knowledge

making’, to which we might further add that this epicentre of knowledge has

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been largely made up of elite, masculine thought and practice.261 In terms of

European colonisation of the Americas and the relationship of that movement of

colonization to Early Modern and Colonial social and scientific cultures, the

prevailing ‘old world’, European knowledge base, replete with cultural signifiers

and practice, is clearly a continuation, or expression, of the existing European

elite, masculine, ‘grand tradition’. The new worlds, on the other hand, opening

to old world horizons provide both their own unique ‘little’ traditions via

indigenous cultural knowledge and practice, and also provide new ground for

existing European ‘little’ traditions, notably that of domestic cultures.

Schiebinger speaks of the vital role which urban centres played ‘as repositories

and clearinghouses’ of this model, with knowledge and material channelled,

directed, and formed within elite, public, urban spheres, equating the prevailing

elite, masculine, European, ‘grand’ tradition with cultural urbanness. A tentative

corresponding assumption may allow for more rural, ‘provincial’, and (in this

context), Colonial (along with domestic and indigenous) association with ‘little’

traditions. This willingness on the part of Colonialists to embrace non-elite, non-

learned, medical practices embodied by their employment of petite traditions

may have arisen from a Colonial willingness to ‘make do’ in a practical vein as

there was often little recourse to trained physicians.

We can see from both plant lists and equipment inventories that both

Early Modern English householders and Colonialists were ‘doing’ medicine.

Moreover, they were ‘doing’ it in the same manner. Authors across the

261 Londa Schiebinger, ‘Scientific Exchange in the Eighteenth-Century Atlantic World’, Soundings in Atlantic history: latent structures and intellectual currents, 1500-1830 ed. Bernard Bailyn Harvard: Harvard University Press. 2009 p.294. Further examination of this is discussed by Schiebinger, p.301.

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spectrum are drawing from the same inherited canon of plants and plant

materials, addressing similar ranges of ailments, and calling for the preparation

of the same types of medicines. The common domestic possession of medicine

making equipment, combined with the receipt book manuscripts and vernacular

plant lists illustrate that householders possessed not only the necessary interest

and equipment to make medicines, but also strongly suggests a high degree of

competency and skill in doing so. Along with probate inventories, domestic

manuscripts and those vernacular works written for household consumption all

support this picture of domestic agency. Moreover, the parity of both equipment

and plant lists all suggest that this was a continuous, shared, common and

inherited domestic practice.

This ‘doing’ of medicine is seen in both implicit and explicit examples of

authority and agency within the botanical recipes themselves. Familiarity with

plant cultures, whether that be personal households’ ability to harvest their own

botanical produce or ‘wildcraft’ effectively, or to (intelligently) consume

commercial products, was clearly a priority for domestic medicine makers.

Alongside their proper harvesting and storage, domestic knowledge of the

treatment of botanicals in the production phase was crucially important to the

successful development of a remedy. Relative to domestic botanical produce

and products, Katherine Davis writes:

June ye 25 whatever vegetables you gather now or about this time (flowers or hearbs) thurst ym close into a stone pott or potts and fasten ye cover of corke or ye like with wax and [sutch?] they will keep all ye yeare and may be distilled att pleasure as there is accation.262

262 BL., ms.EG2214, Katherine Davis, Receipt Book, c.1701, pdf.p.38.

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This passage echoes some of the harvesting and storage advice found

in almanacs of the period (particularly in Colonial almanacs).263

Likewise, Katherine Packer stipulates that her black salve recipe, good

‘to draw out a sore or dead flesh’ containing a range of botanicals along

with ‘sallet’ oil and turpentine, ‘must be made in June’.264 Rose Kendall

et al’s ‘A watter for the Jaundise or Consumption’, on the other hand,

contains specific instructions for its manufacturing: ‘A Rule four the

disposeing of these ingredients:

First put in your Salendine. Secondly put in your Angellico Thirdly put in your Woodsorrell Fourthly put in your Bittony Fiftly put in your Egrimony Sixtly put in your Dock root Rinde Seavonthly putt in yore Barbarie Rinde Eightly putt in yoe Snailes & Wormes Ninethly put in Snailes beaten small Tenthly put in your Saffron Eleventhly put in Yoe Rosemary flowers Twelfly put in yoe Rue Thirteenthly put in your Bearsfoot Fourthteenthly put in your twelue quarts of strone Ale & lett it stand in steeping all night thin in the mourning putt in your hartshound, & distill it in a little Alembick & if the Ale be Good it will produce fouer or five quarts.265

While this text does not offer a rationale for the precise order of ingredient

inclusion, Kendall is very precise in her instructions. This is actually an unusual

recipe in that remedies containing a number of ingredients typically instruct the

producer to simply add ‘a handful each’. Possibly the later addition of

hartshound here reflects the inclusion of more sensitive, water soluble

263 Almanac content is considered in both the Print and Popular Culture chapter, and also, to some extent, in the chapters on Atlantic Botanicals and New World Botanicals. 264 BL., ms.EG2214, Katherine Davis, Op.cit, pdf.p.5. 265 FSL.V.a.429, Rose Kendell et all, cookery and medical receipt book. One of the front pages is marked ‘Rose Kendell & Ann Cater there Book’, 1682, while two pages on is written ‘Anna-Maria Wentworth, Her Book, 1725’.

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constituents which would be lost in the more intensive overnight macerate, or

which might interact with other ingredients prior to the stabilizing addition of

alcohol. What is clear is that Doggett perceives the very precise ordering of

plant additives to the menstruum to be of paramount importance illustrating a

personal agency (and authority) on the part of Doggett in her expression of the

domestic culture.

Moreover, households clearly had the means of producing medicines.

Instructions for equipment found in vernacular texts available and read on both

sides of the Atlantic are clearly mirrored in the domestic evidence. George

Hartman’s Family Physician, for example, gives detailed ‘Directions how to use

this ENGINE for Distil|ling in Balneo Mariae, which is the best way for Distilling

the choicest Waters’, with differentiating instructions for water based distillates

produced in the ‘Balneo Maria’ (bain Marie) and those distilled ‘in Sand’,

suggesting both that households may be expected to own a range of

equipment, and further, that householders will be proficient in their use.266 Lists

of equipment necessary for domestic medical production may also be found in

Thomas Brugis’ Marrow of Physick, and John French’s Art of Distillation.267

These printed texts are echoed in the domestic sources, so that we find a

‘weights’ table in Katherine Davies, Margaret Baker, and Penelope Jephson

Patrick’s English manuscripts, suggestive of relatively sophisticated approaches

266 Hartman, Family Physitian, (London:1682). 267 Thomas Brugis, The Marrow of physick, (London, 1640), part 1, pp. 86–87; John French, Experiments, and Curiosities performed by way of Distillation … (Little-Britain: 1664). French’s list of equipment is followed by an extensive glossary of terms, pdf.13-15, and instructions for use, p.15-22 (and throughout book).

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to measurement and ratios.268 In a similar vein, Mary Doggett gives complete

instructions on distilling waters in her section titled ‘For the stillatory’, Margaret

Baker specifies the use of a ‘cold stille’ in her recipe for ‘the plaugwater’, and

Katherine Davis’ receipt book of 1701 begins with a recipe for ‘A Codiall to be

taken fo lavor’ based largely on ‘waters’, i.e. distillates and but also the by-

product, ‘oyle of juniper’, predicating either the use of a sophisticated alembic

still, or access to commercial supplies. 269 Altogether, these domestic sources

reinforce the picture of a household practice regularly employing the equipment

and resources listed in the vernacular works.

Inventoried Evidence of Domestic Botanical Culture

An examination of Colonial probate inventories from both the Virginia and

the Plymouth settlements were examined here, and each probate account from

the Williamsburg Library examined contained equipment which could have been

used for the making of botanicals, though this is not necessarily an indication

that medicine production did take place in each household, as the blurring of

lines between culinary and medicinal preparation meant that many, indeed

most, of these items were used both for cooking and for remedy preparation.

For example, Francis Howard’s inventory of 1747 includes ‘1 Case Bottles’, a

‘Fruit Strainer’, ‘1 pair brass Scales & Weights’, ‘1 bell Metal Spice/ Mortar and

268 BL.Eg.ms.2214, fol.2r, Katherine Davies’ medical and cookery receipts, 1638; BL.Sloane.ms.2485, fol.10v, Margaret Baker, receipt book in two parts containing mainly medical and some culinary receipts, 1652; FSL.ms.V.a.396, fol.4r, Penelope Jephson Patrick, Receipt Book,1671-1675. 269 BL.Add.MS.27466, fol.2, Mary Doggett, Her Booke of Receits, 1604; BL., ms.EG 2214, Katherine Davis, Receit Book, c.1701; FSL.V.a.396, Penelope Jephson Patrick, Receipt Book,1671-1675; BL.Sloane.ms.2485, fol.67v, Margaret Baker’s Receipt book in two parts, 1672.

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Pestle’, ‘9 Juggs and a warming pan’, ’12 Bottles Sweet Oyl’, ‘200 Quart Bottles

& 3 Tubs’, virtually any and all of which could be used equally for the production

of botanicals, spirits, or culinary preserves. Moreover, the status and means of

a household’s owner was by no means indicative of their ability, and propensity,

to make medicines.270 Thus, Sarah Green’s simple inventory of goods from her

hall, hall closet, chamber, upper chamber, porch and kitchen contains a still as

well as a mortar and pestle. The considerably more affluent Thomas Hornsby’s

inventory of 1773 mentions a wide range of kitchen equipment, including

mortars and pestles, but contains no still.271 The prevalence of stills, the

household distilling equipment typically used to make aqueous botanical

preparations (hydrolats, or floral waters) along with weights, domestic scales,

mortars and pestles, and so on, all speaks to the regularity of domestic

medicine production, as well as to the confidence and experience of

householders in carrying out this production. These are typical instruments

found across households, and speak to a common practice.

There is no reason to assume in this instance that the presence of a still

in a woman’s inventory and its absence from a man’s indicates a gender based

differentiation in ownership in the Virginian settlement (or possibly in

employment and usage, even though this may have actually been the case), as

several stills are found in the inventories of other men. Nor can we necessarily

infer that richer households eschewed stills as they had a lesser need for them,

presuming that increased wealth meant greater access, and possibly recourse,

to expensive and relatively rare commercial products. The inventory list from 270 CWA, Francis Howard, Probate Inventory, May 16, 1748. 271 CWA, Sarah Green, Probate Inventory, April 1, 1759; CWA, Thomas Hornsby, Probate Inventory, August 4, 1773.

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Hugh Nelson’s probate of 1800, for example, contains ‘2 Small tin Stills’ as well

as numerous instruments (including a cellaret and a harpsichord), a range of

fine furniture, china, silver, linen, and sundry other expensive items, as well as

listing twenty nine named slaves ‘in town’, and a further ten named slaves ‘at

the Quarter’.272 Of course stills were commonly used not only in the production

of distillates (floral waters and oils), but also in brewing a variety of alcoholic

beverages, and there is no clear way of discerning from inventories alone which

use stills were put to. Simple assumptions regarding a still’s use may be

incorrect. Giles Moody’s inventory of 1730 contains a still as well as a spice

mortar. 273 It also lists an old bellmetal, 4 stone jugs, 3 carboys, a case of bottle,

‘stone bowls & stone & earthenware’, and a further 1 ½ Gross bottles in the

cellar, along with 25 Gallons of rum, 15 lbs of hopps, 4 dozen bottles of Madera

wine, ‘2 dozn. Cyder’, 5 bottles beer, and ‘a wine pipe’, suggesting that his use

of the still was probably not medicinal, or at least not solely medicinal. William

Prentis’s inventory similarly contains a number of empty, and full, vessels in the

cellar, with ‘5 empty Casks, … a Pipe of Wine … 4 Jugs Brandy, 3 Carboys, 1

Jug Rum, 16 empty Jugs and Carboys, 390 Bottles Wine, 18 Doz. Empty

Bottles, and ... Rum in a Hhd’.274 Yet while the inclusion of a such a very

substantial amount of alcohol in both of these cases seems to suggest that

quaffing rather than remedying was the main focus, there is no doubt that Early

Modern and Colonial households would have regularly employed hard liquor in

the extraction and preservation of botanicals, suggesting that medicine

production may at least have been one of several possible uses to which stills

were put. In most cases there is little evidence supporting either a primary use 272 CWA, Hugh Nelson, Probate Inventory, January 28, 1800. 273 CWA, Giles Moody, Probate Inventory, January 16, 1730. 274 CWA, William Prentis, October 19, 1765.

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for the production of botanicals or, as in this case, what appears to be the

almost exclusive production of alcohol.275 What we might successfully surmise

is that while the majority of extant scribal evidence that we have derives from

upper to middle-upper class homes in Williamsburg, inventory evidence would

suggest that households with smaller means were equally likely to have the

means (as well as the need) to produce botanicals.

From the Plymouth probates, where only inventories of goods belonging

to women were studied, there is an equal amount of equivocal evidence in

terms of individual possession of equipment necessary for the production of

botanicals, yet not exclusively used in this manner. Mary Ring’s inventory of

1633, for example, contains ‘3 brasse potts … / … 2 kettles/’ a ‘scumer’,

‘warming panne’, ‘1 Canne …/ 1 pr of Bellowes/ … 1 doz. of trenchers …/ 2

Sives … / 1 Frydiron … / 1 fire Iron … /;, basins, cups, bowls, ‘payles’, bottles,

and so on; all of which are necessary for medicine production, but none of them

specific to it.276 More promising are the lists found in Alice Bradford’s inventory

of 1670/1671, containing (along with books listed as ‘Item the Meathod of

Phisicke’ and ‘Gouges domesticall dutyes’, and copious sundry kitchen utensils)

‘2 gallon glasse bottles and three pottle bottles’, ‘24 pewter platters and a brim

bason ... 2 Flaggons: 2 quart potts & 2 pint potts ... 6 smale pewter dishes and a

smale bason ... [and] 7 porrengers’, ‘1 little French kettle ... 2 brasse kettles ... a

duch pan ... 3 brasse skilletts [and] 1 old brasse skimer and Ladle’.277 In these

275 There is a clear difference in inventories on this aspect between the Virginian and the Massachusetts material, particularly in the earlier probates, as the evidence from the Williamsburg sources often list copious amounts of alcohol, whereas the early Plymouth, Puritan, accounts do not. 276 PCA, Mary Ring, Probate Inventory, 1633. 277 PCA, 3:3-5, #P178, Alice Bradford, Probate Inventory, 31 March 1670/1671.

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lists the sheer number of containment vessels, combined with heating and

clarifying equipment, speaks directly to probable medicine production. Had the

production of distilled alcohol products been the main objective, ‘porrengers’

and ‘skimers’ would not typically have been called for, and where preserving

(for example of fruits) was carried out, this quantity of bottles would have been

excessive.

Virtually all of the inventories from both colonies, and across the

seventeenth and early-eighteenth-centuries, include mortar and pestles. In

Williamsburg, Thomas Collier’s estate lists two separate mortar and pestles, the

first, ‘A Bell metall pesell and Morter’ to be found ‘in the Room below Stairs’, the

second ‘in the Kitching’ , and a number of them list stills (Sarah Green, Thomas

Collier’s inventory listed ‘A Large copper still and tub’, Davidson’s lists ‘1 Still

wth. Stand & worn Tub £4/ 2 retorts 3 receivers & Iron 4/’, while Joseph Ring’s

estate of 1704 contains ‘1 large Copper furness … and 1 smll. Ditto’ in the

‘Granary and Stables’, and ‘1 old Still’ in ‘the Chamber’).278 Several of the

Virginian inventories also list scales and weights; a typical example being that of

James Whaley : ‘1 pr. old Scales & Weights’. Henry Bowcock, Joseph Man,

Thomas Collier, Robert Davidson, Thomas Dennett, Henery Ffreeman Junr,

Francis Howard, Henry Hacker’s inventories all list ‘stilliards’, (Hacker’s

inventory also lists several further sets of weights, found in a number of rooms

and outhouses), James Shields’ inventory lists ‘1 pair Stilyards’, and Henry

278 CWA, Thomas Collier, Probate Inventory, June 19, 1705; CWA, Sarah Green, Probate Inventory, April 1, 1759; CWA, Robert Davidson, Probate Inventory, March 17, 1740; CWA, Joseph Ring, July 5, 1704.

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Wetherburn’s a pair of ‘Stillyards’279 While the ability to measure weights is

important for a number of domestic tasks, the combined frequency of standard

scales with stilliards (which measured heavier weights) is an interesting one, as

the latter suggests that whatever was being weighed was being used in rather

substantial amounts, and for processes where correct proportions were

important, which rules out the baking of single domestic dishes, for example, or

the production of simple products where correct ratios may be gauged by eye

alone. Indeed, the production of botanicals, where ratio of plant to menstruum

is crucially important, would necessitate the use of scales generally, and

production of botanicals in bulk would help explain the popular use of stilliards.

Likewise, in the women’s inventories from Plymouth, Margaret Carpenter owned

‘a paire of scales‘ as did Alice Bradford.280

Many of the inventories from both settlements list a range of containers

capable of storing botanicals, including glass bottles and earthenware vessels.

In the Williamsburg inventories Mary Ripping’s estate lists ‘20½ doz. empty

bottles’, John Camp’s ‘2 Cases Bottles’, Thomas Collier’s ‘a gross of glas

Bottells’, and Joseph Man’s ‘12 Grose of Botles’, while Henry Hacker left ‘1

Case of bottles’ in the ‘Little Room Closet’ along with ‘1 Still 1 Carboy …3 juggs

279 CWA, James Whaley, Probate Inventory, October 1, 1701; CWA, Henry Bowcock, Probate Inventory, March 16, 1730; CWA, Joseph Man, Probate Inventory, December 30, 1703; CWA, Thomas Collier, Probate Inventory, June 19, 1705; CWA, Robert Davidson, Probate Inventory, March 17, 1740; CWA, Thomas Dennett, Probate Inventory, September 8, 1673; CWA, Henry Freeman, Probate Inventory, Junior, May 13, 1676; CWA, Francis Howard, Probate Inventory, May 16, 1748; CWA, Henry Hacker, Probate Inventory, February 21, 1743; CWA, James Shields, Probate Inventory, January 21, 1751; CWA, Henry Wetherburn, Probate Inventory, December 19, 1760. (Stilliards were a relatively crude hanging form of weighing mechanism). 280 PCA, Margaret Carpenter, Probate Inventory, 1676; PCA, Alice Bradford, Probate Inventory, 1670/1671

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2 Gallon bottles 1 larger Cannister … and 12/6 Jarrs’ in the ‘Shedd Closet’.281

While Robert Davidson’s list includes’ 4 Stone juggs’, George Wells’ inventory

of 1754 lists ‘1 Groce Bottles 26/. 1 Cask Cyder 10/. A Parcel of Empty Casks

8/’, and Matthew Shield’s estate of 1766 contained ‘A parcel of Vials &c’ in the

hall, ‘1 Case and 10 Bottles’ in the’[Cham]ber and Closet’, and a further ‘2 Doz.

Bottles’ in the ‘Celler &c.’.282 Meanwhile Ischmael Moody’s inventory of 1749

mentions ‘ 2 Gallon Do.... 1 large Case with 16 two Gallon Bottles filled with

Arrack … 2 smaller Do. With 16 two Qt. Bottles …[and] 10 earthen Bowls’ in the

‘Barr Room’, ‘19 doz Bottles’ in an upstairs room, a further ‘9 Earthen Bowles 10

Mustard pots & 6 Mugs 17/ …16 large Mouth Bottles 5/’ in the ‘old Dairy’, and ‘1

Pewter Gallon pot’ in the kitchen, and ’11 Carboys, … 12 doz bottles with Stale

Liquors, … 20 Gallons Rum, … 1 Case with 12 two qt. Bottles with Cordials’ in

the ‘Cellar under the Ordinary’).283 Indeed, the variety of equipment of possible

use in the making of botanicals typically found in a single estate may be seen in

John Trotter’s inventory of 1745:

An Old Pestle & Morter 1/3 an old Brass Scale & Coffee pot 3/ 0..4..3 1 Large old Copper Kettle 20/ 1 Do. 30/ Water pails Tubs & Salt Box & 1 ax 6/6 2..16..6 7 doz. Quart Bottles 14/ some old Casks 7/6 2 Bushells bay Salt 4/1..5..6 1 Carboy & 2 Juggs 8/ an old warming Pan 2/ a pair Small old Scales & wts. 2/0..12..

… A Case with 6 Pottle & some other Bottles 8/ a looking Glass 2/60..10..6.284

A similar list, with storage containers, particularly bottles, may be seen in the

earlier Plymouth inventories. Alice Bradford’s probate of 1671-1671 lists ‘an old

281 CWA, Mary Ripping, Probate Inventory, February 18, 1745; CWA, John Camp, Probate Inventory, March 19, 1774; CWA, Thomas Collier, Probate Inventory, June 19, 1705; CWA, Joseph Man, Probate Inventory, December 30, 1703; Henry Hacker, Probate Inventory, February 21, 1743. 282 CWA, Robert Davidson , Probate Inventory, March 17, 1740; CWA, George Wells, Probate Inventory, May 20, 1754; CWA, Mathew Shield , Probate Inventory, June 25, 1766. 283 CWA, Ischmael Moody , Probate Inventory, January 16, 1749. 284 CWA, John Trotter , Probate Inventory, June 15, 1745.

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Case of bottles’ found ‘in the old Parlour’, ‘2 gallon glasse bottles and three

pottle bottles’ in the kitchen, while that of James and Dorothy Brown (1673) also

lists a full ‘case of bottles’.285

Virtually all of the equipment and items listed in inventories from both

settlements may, as has been noted, have been employed in a range of

activities, including culinary uses. Yet the production and commonality of ales

and alcohols is indicative of the ease with which medicine making could be

adapted within the domestic setting. Moreover, in some instances, the

preponderance and combination of certain items are strongly suggestive of the

production of medicines. In Moody’s case, the listing of cordials indicates the

presence of botanicals in substantial quantities. Moreover, Thomas Collier’s

inventory of 1705 more specifically lists ‘Physick and Books 11.1.8’, as well as a

range of medicines:

Medicines Old but Vendable £24..18..7 More do. 4..3..4 Not Vendable 26..17..0 £55..18..11 A parcel New Medicines 20..6..3½

£76..5..2½ 301..5..1½.286 Collier’s list demonstrates that he was not only buying items from an

apothecary’s, as does William Pattison’s listing of ‘a box of Druggs & a plaister

Salve’ in his inventory of 1703, but that these items were valued highly enough

285 PCA, Alice Bradford , Probate Inventory, 1670/1671; James and Dorothy Brown , Probate Inventory, 1673/1674. 286 CWA, Thomas Collier, Probate Inventory, Op.cit.

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to warrant being included in the probate inventory, along with the ‘do it yourself’

books.287

Items more closely, and specifically, used in working with botanical

material may also be found in these inventories. In Colonial Williamsburg.,

Thomas Dennett’s probate included ‘One spice Grater’ (probably specific for

grating nutmeg), while Henry Hacker’s inventory lists contains ‘1 Bark Sifter 1

small Strainer 3/.’ in the ‘Stairs Great room’.288 James Michell’s inventory of

1772 lists (amongst other things) ‘2 Gro: Empty Bottles 60/. … 3 large

Powdering Tubbs 22/6 3 large Jarrs 20/ … 1 large Case with Bottles 70/. 5

small Do. 70/ 7 … 7 Earthen Pans’ and ‘1 large lignum vite Mortar and Pestle’

in the cellar.289 While many of these items would have multiple uses, the

powdering tubs and ‘lignum vite Mortar and Pestle’ suggest medicine

production. The ‘lignum vitae mortar and pestle’ here refers to a larger, heftier

piece of equipment than that which would be demanded by simple culinary use

(in grinding spices such as cloves, for example), as the dried bark, which would

need to be further shaved or powdered prior to being distilled or tinctured, has

an almost rock-like consistency, and likely was imported, and sold to domestic

consumers, in small chunks. A second mortar and pestle to be found in the

kitchen is specifically referred to as a ‘Spice Mortar and pestle’ (though again,

the use of spices may have equally been used for culinary as well as medicinal

purposes, or, more likely, both).

287 CWA, William Pattison, Probate Inventory, April 8, 1703. 288 CWA, Thomas Dennett, Probate Inventory, September 8, 1673; CWA, Henry Hacker, Probate Inventory, February 21, 1743. 289 CWA, James Mitchell, Probate Inventory, July 20, 1772. Lignum vitae is discussed in chapter six.

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Evidence relating to the combined use of both professional medical

practice and domestic botanicals may be derived from Joseph Ring’s inventory

of 1704.290 Ring left ‘1 Doctor Chest’ in the old House’, and ‘a prcell of Phisick’

in ‘the Clositt in the hall’ which almost certainly refers to purchased goods from

an apothecary.291 Along with the two stills and copper furnaces already

mentioned, Ring left ‘2 Stone Juggs … 1 Earthen Jarr’ as well as ’26 old Sider

Caske … 40 gall. of Rum [and] 80 gall. Madera wine’ in the ‘Seller’; a ‘Bell metle

mortar & pesell’ in the ‘Kitchin’; bottles, earthenware, sifters and strainers in ‘the

Old Store along with ‘ ½ doz of alchemy Spoons & 5 dishes qt. 15½ at 9d p lb 3

qt. tumblers 6 qt. Tanketts 2 qt. potts ½ doz. plates pewter’, substantial amounts

of both sugar and salt (again, both holding medicinal as well as culinary

importance), ‘2 Large tine funells … 3 lb peper’ in ‘the New Store’. Crucially,

(added as an addendum to the body of the inventory under the heading ‘These

goods are by request of the Executrix Inventoreyed but not appraised by us the

Subscribers’) the inventory includes a further ‘ 4 ½ lb. peper/ … 12 ounces of

Cloves/ … 4 ounces of Cinmon/ … 2 lb ginger/ … 2 ounces mace’. This last list

of botanicals, in light of both the extensive equipment, and the obvious stores of

ancillary preparatory ingredients (alcohol, sugar, and so on), strongly suggests

that the Williamsburg Ring household was preparing its own botanicals as well

as purchasing medicines from regular sources.

Similarly, Joseph Walker’s Williamsburg estate of 1724 leaves a

‘Limbick & Cistern 39lb’, which, while a still can theoretically be used as easily

290 CWA, Joseph Ring, July 5, 1704. 291 The doctor’s chest could refer to a chest or trunk owned by a physician, but is far more likely to refer to the sort of household first aid cabinet/ chest/ trunk which were occasionally put together by domestic users, but more commonly purchased whole from apothecaries, with a range of what was deemed to be the more important remedies for domestic usage.

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to distil alcohol as distillates, the term ‘limbick’ (a form of ‘alembic’) is used

almost exclusively for medicinal distillation; and combined, as it is here, with a

tank capable of holding 39 lbs of dried material, we see that the medicine was

being produced on a fairly substantial scale.292 Walker’s inventory also lists a

number of ambiguous items (for example, a marble mortar and pestle, scales,

and a range of containers, including ‘1 Earthen pan, 1 Stone pottle Jug, 1

pipekin, 6 Stone bottles, 2 Jarrs 6 Stone butter pots, 1 Earthen butterpot, 3

Earthen plates’ and ‘A large Cannister @ 3 [unreadable] Do.’) along with

botanicals found ‘in the Store’ and under ‘Grocery’ are 7/8 Garlix 2/ ‘2.9.6/ …

29 Ells ¾ Garlix @ 14.d’, ‘8 lb. Scrap’d Ginger @64. 4/32 ¾ lb. pepper @ 22d

£3.-.-1/2’. Walker, like Ring, clearly bought in medicines, however, as seen in

the ‘box Medicines £6.3’ listed under the heading ‘Haberdashery’.

Fifty years earlier, in the late-seventeenth-century, Alice Bradford of the

Plymouth settlement likewise has access to a range of medical sources.293 Her

inventory lists a number of books, including the Meathod of Phisicke and

’Gouges domesticall dutyes’, suggesting that she was engaged in current

thought and advice on homemaking and medical knowledge.294 This is

comparable to Elizabeth Freke’s ‘accountt of whatt books I putt into the deep

deale box by the fire side in my own closett’, which lists (along with a range of

religious texts, histories and romances): ‘I book of cirgiary by Colebach …I

292 Walker, Joseph, Probate Inventory, September 2, 1724. 293 PCA, Alice Bradford, Op.cit. 294 Philip Barrough’s The method of phisick, containing the causes, signes, and cures of inward diseases in mans body, from the head to the foote. Whereunto is added, the forme and rule of making remedies and medicines, which our physitions commonly use at this day, with the proportion, quantitie, and names of such medicines first printed in 1590 by Richard Field, London, with subsequent reprints including those of 1596, 1610, 1617, 1639, 1652; and William Gouge, Anglican clergyman, Of Domesticall Duties and the family, Printed by Iohn Haviland for William Bladen, London,1622

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Compleatt Herball by Peachy … 2 books of Cullpeppers physick … I abstractt of

Gerralds herball of my wrightine now in the great black trunke… [and] I book of

the Husband Mans Instructer’.295 Bradford’s Colonial inventory also contains

the usual range of kitchen utensils and equipment, including a ‘pewter funnell’,

‘1 great Iugg and 5 smaller ones 4 earthen pans and 2 earthen potts’, several

kettles (including ‘French kettles’ as well as ‘brasse’ and iron versions), ‘a

brasse pestle and Mortor … [and] a paire Andjrons’, ‘potts’ and pans, a

‘skimer’, ‘tonggs’, ‘spitts’, and so on. And along with the substantial storage

containers already detailed, Bradford’s estate left the typical ‘scales & waightes

with an Iron beame’; the ‘iron beam’ of which, like the stilliards seen in the

Williamsburg probates, perhaps suggests the measurement of substantial

quantities of ingredients. This last is particularly suggestive of medicine making

in light of Bradford’s ownership of a popular book on the uses and means of

preparing botanical medicines.296

Items left in probate evidence from the Plymouth settlement which

relate more specifically to medicine production are scant; James and Dorothy

Brown own ‘1 morter and pestle [and] 10 alcomy spoones’, while Margaret

Howland owned a ‘belmettle spice Morter & pestee [and] … Tin 3s & a Glasse

bottles’.297 Although several of the Plymouth estates list various grains and

livestock, not one of those examined lists plants which might be at all construed

as botanicals, nor do they mention seeds (of any sort). It is almost certain that

295 Elizabeth Freke, Receipt Book, BL. MS, fol.9IV, datedi7ii, Octtober the i6. 296 All of the Plymouth inventories examined here, bar one, listed books –these were not typically further identified, apart from where Bibles, Psalm books and Psalters are specified (this occurs virtually universally). Whether the remaining books consisted of vernacular, ‘self help’ books, including medical works, or not, is impossible to tell from the inventories alone. 297 PCA, James and Dorothy Brown, Probate Inventory, 1673/1674; PCA, Margaret Howland, Probate Inventory, 1683/1684.

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these households would have had the latter, and probably they would have had

some form of the former also (even if ‘bought in’ from regular sources such as

Apothecaries). The lack of mention in these probate inventories may suggest

that these goods were so common and easily acquired (which might suggest

household production over commercial acquisition) that they were not

considered of enough value to list in estate evaluations. In looking at what these

inventories collectively have to say about domestic agency as it relates to the

knowledge, skills, and production of botanicals in the American colonies, what

we may say with certainty is that these individuals had the equipment and the

means of producing and storing medical compounds. Combined with earlier

evidence, particularly from correspondence, there is every reason to believe

that most households were doing so. Like their English friends and relatives,

the early Colonialists had recourse to strong community networking and

transmission routes (oral and scribal) as well as vernacular texts; they were

largely engaged with agrarian pursuits and well situated to growing and

supplying the bulk of their own botanical needs. That a common domestic

botanical culture continued to thrive is well evidenced by the widespread,

indeed, virtually universal, occurance of production equipment. Moreover, that

the Colonial practice was a continuation of the earlier English culture may be

read in lists of medicinal plants themselves.

Of Plants and Plant Lists

We might consider the interplay between grand and petite traditions

relative to old and new world botanicals by looking at those plants as broadly

defined entities with complex cultural and commercial values. Early Modern

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English and Colonial social definitions and evaluations of the plants’ desirability

and worth were driven, at least in part, by a conscious desire to discover new,

saleable, botanicals. Botanicals became commodities both as desirable exotic

garden cultivars, and as active medical agents, as will be explored further in this

Chapter. Indeed, a wealth of scholarship has been devoted specifically to the

role of what is commonly identified as 'bioprospecting' (appropriating a very

modern word and concept for historical purposes, which has its own problems,

but serves well in this instance) in Early Modern European and Atlantic

histories. As an historical construct, ‘bioprospecting’, may be seen as the

deliberate searching for information specific to plant medicines from new world

peoples and practices.298 For example, scholars studying Early Modern

sciences have examined the extent to which the discovery of useful botanicals

proved one of the primary motivating forces for new world exploration.299 Plants

arriving from the Americas very quickly became valuable and central remedies

across European materia medicas, while the majority of plants to be found in

new world Anglo-American gardens and Apothecaries’ were of old world origin.

An unintended outcome of the exportation of ‘grand’ European cultural

and physical traditions was the resulting mixture of plants and practices both

within regular professional medical use, and in trans-Atlantic households.

Schiebinger writes of ‘the mixing and hybridization, collecting, sorting, and

extinctions of knowledges’ amongst indigenous, European, and African cultures,

298 C.f. In the UK the History of Herbal Medicine seminar series examines both cultural and medical significance of botanicals and their employment, as does the annual Oxford (Mississippi) International Conference on the Science of Botanicals, while the American Institute for the Preservation of Medical Traditions focuses largely on historical botanical bioprospecting. Journals such as Planta Medica (pharmadognosical based research) are also including more articles relating specifically to historical research. 299 C.f. Shiebinger & Swan, Op.cit., McLead, Op.cit, Keenan, Op.cit.

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considering both the roles played by indigenous Americans and African slaves

in the introduction of new world flora into European usage ‘brought about

equally by proximity and by necessity, and the impact that these divergences

had on all of the competing cultures’. 300 In the first instance, differing cultures

unsurprisingly cross-pollinate each other when they are in regular contact, with

the variety of unforeseen circumstances dictating the adoption of knowledge

and practices, both in order to ensure individual and communal survival, and to

further original commercial interests. Thus we see European plants in common

use within households in the Americas as both foods and medicines, whilst also

seeing plants native to the Americas becoming regular staples in European

medical traditions. In the second instance, applying Schiebinger’s theory to

Atlantic botanical cultures, we might expect to see specific examples of

‘extinctions of knowledge’, whereby appropriated materia medica supplants or

supersedes previous medicines, both in the prevailing grand European, and in

the indigenous petite, traditions resulting from Colonial expansionism.

Schiebinger argues that it was the act of colonization which was ultimately

intimately concerned with the eventual collapse of the prevailing grand theory of

humoral medicine in European thought and practice. What this thesis is

interested in interrogating is whether exposure to, and inclusion of, new world

botanicals reflects directly on the petite tradition of Anglo-American domestic

botanical knowledge and use. Consideration of the changes in what botanicals

were employed in the inherited, shared, European canon allows us to establish

300 Londa Schiebinger, ‘Scientific Exchange in the Eighteenth-Century Atlantic World’, Soundings in Atlantic history: latent structures and intellectual currents, 1500-1830 ed. Bernard Bailyn Harvard: Harvard University Press. 2009 p.295 This is actually a current take on Alfred W. Crosby‘s 1974 concept of the ‘Columbian exchange’.

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both the inherited communal origins of that shared practice, and the

divergences which herald a new, North American, culture.

While cultural historians are interested in how botanicals were perceived

and utilized by those individuals employing them, Atlantic historians are typically

interested in botanicals (as well as plant foods) as commodities and items of

trade.301 We know a great deal about those botanicals imported into the

colonies as well as those exported back for European consumption and use.

For example, looking at the 1648 London Rates of Marchandizes, we see a

number of botanicals listed (both as medicinal ‘drugs’ and as edible and other

commodities). For example, there are rates listed for three separate Lignums:

Lignum Aloes, Lignum vitae, and Lignum rhodium. Also listed are a range of

imported old world spices such as Caraway, ‘Cardomomes’, ‘Cassia’,

Coriander, Cumin, Greene-Ginger, and Nutmeg; old world medicinals such as

Daucus, Elleborus Albus & Niger, ‘Fenell-seedes’, Gentiana, Opium (by the

pound), and ‘Bayberies’; and new world drugs such as Callamus, Ginny

Pepper’, Sarsaparilla, Sassafras (root and wood), and Tobacco.302 Evidence

301 Cf. Elaine Leong, ‘Making Medicines in the Early Modern Household Bulletin of the History of Medicine - Volume 82, Number 1, Spring 2008, para.1, p.156. Leong includes a list of early modern medical attributes associated with particular waters, with no analysis of where the claims come from in terms of what might/ might not be in the botanicals to justify their use for specific ailments. 302 England and Wales, Commissioners of Customs, The rates of the marchandizes as they are set downe in the booke of rates for the custome and subsidie of poundage, and for the custome and subsidei of clothes the same being signed by the Kings Maiestie (1604). Of the plants, Lignum Aloes probably refers to spp. from Africa, though there are American species, Lignum vitae is Guaiac wood, or Guaiacum, originating in the Americas, and Lignum rhodium is Rosewood, found in the Canary Islands as well as the West Indies. Daucus is Daucus carrota, the wild carrot, Elleborus Albus & Niger refer to Helleborus spp. i.e. Helleborus niger, or the Christmas Rose, Callamus is Acorus calamus, and while calamus can be found across Europe, it was exposure to Native American use of calamus as a foodstuff and medicine that the plant entered into the English materia medica, Ginny Pepper’ is probably Lepidium virginicum, also known as Virginia pepper or pepperweed. Of the five primary new world botanicals examined in depth in the thesis, four are listed in the Rates of Marchandizes, with Cinchona off. being the

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suggests that the major botanicals which fed into European materia medicae

(which will be considered in depth in the Chapter on new world herbs) were

clearly valued as merchandise. This is particularly true of tobacco, and by the

mid-eighteenth-century, Burnaby was writing that Virginia’s trade

is large and extensive. Tobacco is the principal article of it. Of this they export annually between fifty and sixty thousand hogsheads, each hogshead weighing eight hundred or a thousand weight: some years they export much more. They ship also for the Madeiras, the Streights, and the West-Indies, several articles …. : to Great Britain, bar-iron, indigo, and a small quantity of ginseng, though of an inferior quality.303

Sassafras was also one of the main commodities shipped back to England on

the Fortune– along with beaver skins, clapboard, wainscot, and walnut. In

looking at the English tax rates on drug imports, we see that importation rates

for sassafras wood fall substantially, from 16 pence per pound in 1604, to 0.72

pence per pound in 1712, suggesting that the plant was moving from the realm

of luxury into that of staple botanical.304 Similar rates chart the rise in

importation of lignum vita, tobacco, and sarsaparilla, suggesting that American

botanicals were moving across the Atlantic in substantial, and increasing,

quantities, and were a highly valued commodity.

Plants of old world origin, however, clearly formed the bulk of produce,

both as foodstuffs and as medicines, within British households on both sides of

exception as it originated in colonies controlled by the Spanish, which would have curtailed its trade considerably in early modern England. 303 Rev. Andrew Burnaby, Travels Through the Middle Settlements in North America, In the Years 1759 and 1760, with Observations upon the State of the Colonies, Edition the Third, Revised, Corrected, and Greatly Enlarged, by the Author, London (Printed for T.Payne, at the Mews-Gate) 1798 p.17. 304 Smith, New England’s Trials, 1622 as cited in Edward Winslow, Chronicles of the Pilgrim Fathers, (Alexander Young, ed.) p.236, notes.. (This inventory refers to the Fortune’s sailing on Dec.13, 1621, arriving London England Feb.17th, 1622).The Rates of the Marchandizes as they are set downe in the Booke of Rates for the Cumstome and Subsidie of Poundage, and for the Custome and Subsidie of Clothes the same being signed by the Kinds Maiestie (London, 1604); Thomas Langham, Broker, The neat duties, and the draw-back upon exportation, (al discounts and abatements deducted) of all drugs specified in the book of rates (London, 1712).

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the Atlantic. In 1634, for example, William Woods, writing on American soil and

cultivation in his Chapter titled ‘the Herbs, Fruits, Woods, Waters, and Minerals’,

notes that Colonial

ground affords very good kitchen gardens for turnips, parsnips, carrots, radishes, and pumpions, muskmelon, isquouterquashes, cucumbers, onions, and whatsoever grows well in England grows as well there, many things being better and larger. There is likewise growing all manner of herbs for meat and medicine, and that not only in planted gardens but in the woods, without either the art of the help of man, as sweet marjoram, purslane, sorrel, penerial, yarrow, myrtle, saxifarilla, bays, etc.305

Over a hundred years later, Moody Follensby’s garden diary plans written in

Massachusetts are concerned with getting ‘english Beans’, lettice, ‘pease’, and

‘carrotts’ into the ground, and by the end of the eighteenth-century, John

Adam’s recommendations for the perfectly stocked Colonial homestead and

garden have expanded on the original Puritans’ provision lists considerably, and

are notable for the wealth of old world inclusions. From John Adams’ third diary

(of 1759) which contains both personal anecdote and commonplace entries:

Ashes, Marl, Chips, sticks, straw, &c. Weeds, Nature of Weeds, methods of destroying, and extirpating them. Barbery Bushes, Cadlock, White Weed, yellow Weeds. Grasses, Clover, while [white?] honey suckle, ... fowl medow Grass, fox Tail or Herds Grass. St. foin, Tree foin, &c. Roots, fibres, saps, juices,Vessells, Circulation, Inoculation, Engraftments, scients [scions], &c.

... Colly flower, sellery, &c. Peas, different sorts. Beans, English and others, different sorts, white black, red, large, small, &c. Turnips. Bates for rats. Parsnips, Parsley, Pepper Grass, Horse radish, Mustard, Onions, shyves [chives], Herbs. Hog Weed, red rood [root?]. Pursley, Dandelyons, &c. Balm, Sage, Penny Royal, Hyssop, &c. Pinks, Tulips.306

Writing in 1634, the English author William Wood outlined useful plants for the

average Colonial householder to keep on hand, combining old and new world 305 William Wood, Alden T. Baughan, New England’s Prospect, London, 1634, p.36. NB* pumpions = pumpkins, isquouterquashes (also spelt askoot-asquash, the Algonquian word for squash), penerial = pennyroyal. Saxifarilla = sarsaparilla). 306 MHS., Adams Family Papers, John Adams diary (Vol. 3), 1759.

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examples (aniseed and corn). It is notable that Adams’ much later, American,

list does the same (combining red root, Sanguinaria Canadensis, with

‘Dandelyons’, for example). There is a comingling of old and new world plants in

both English and Colonial sources, with appreciation and application of both

across the culture.

This mixture of the old and new worlds may be seen, for example, in

virtually all Colonial lists of the period. For example John Lawson wrote of

plants commonly found in southern Colonial domestic gardens in the late

seventeenth and early-eighteenth-centuries, combining the old world ‘physical’

botanicals already discussed with a variety of new world plants including

the Scurvy-grass of America, I never here met any of the European sort; Tobacco of many sorts, … two sorts spontaneous, good Vulneraries, … Asarum wild in the Woods, reckon'd one of the Snake-Roots; … Ground-Ivy spontaneous, but very small and scarce, … four sorts of Snake-Roots, besides the common Species, which are great Antidotes against that Serpent's Bite, and are easily rais'd in the Garden …James-Town-Weed, so called from Virginia, the Seed it bears is very like that of an Onion … The Red-Root whose Leaf is like Spear-Mint, is good for Thrushes and fore Mouths … [and] Sarsaparilla. 307

Interestingly, Lawson here specifies both pot-herbs, or those botanicals typically

associated with the cooking pot, and those he designated as ‘The more

Physical’:

Our Pot-herbs and others of use, which we already possess, are Angelica wild and same, Balm, Bugloss, Borage, Burnet, Clary, Marigold, Pot-Marjoram, and other Marjorams, Summer and Winter Savory, Columbines, Tansey, Wormwood, Nep, Mallows several Sorts, Drage red and white, Lambs Quarters, Thyme, Hyssop of a very large Growth, sweet Bazil, Rosemary, Lavender.308

307 John Lawson, New Voyage to Caroline, p. 77-78. 308 IBID.

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Clearly he perceives a distinction between ‘cooking’ herbs and medical ones,

and equally clearly, both are considered of value to the householder. What is

less clear is the means by which he differentiates between the two, for in the

first list he includes a number of botanicals (Bugloss, Wormwood, and the

Mallow) which are not commonly considered foodstuffs, while the second

‘physical’ list, contains not only a number of botanicals typically used solely as

medicinal agents (‘Carduus Benedictus, the Scurvy-grass of America…

Elecampane, Comfrey, Nettle … Burdock … Poppies in the Garden, none wild

yet discover'd; Wormseed, Feverfew, Rue, Datura’, or James Town Weed,) but

also includes those with culinary associations, such as dill, caraway, cumin,

anise, and coriander.

This combining of old and new world plants, and the lack of a coherent

classification of botanicals as either medicine or foodstuff typical of the inherited

Anglo-American domestic culture as outlined in the first three Chapters, is well

illustrated by Robert Beverely’s writing on domestic horticulture in Colonial

America:

A Kitchin-Garden don't thrive better or faster in any part of the Universe, than there. They have all the Culinary Plants that grow in England, and in far greater perfection, than in England: Besides these, they have several Roots, Herbs, Vine fruits, and Salare-Flowers peculiar to themselves, most of which will neither increase, nor grow to Perfection in England. These they dish up various ways, and find them very delicious Sauce to their Meats, both Roast and Boild, Fresh and Salt; such are the Red-Buds, Sassafras-Flowers, Cymnels; Melons, and Potatoes, whereof I have spoken at large in the 4th Chapter of the Second Book. It is said of New-England, that several Plants will not grow there, which thrive well in England, such as Rue, Southernwood, Rosemary, Bays, and Lavender: And that others degenerate, and will not continue above a year or two at the most; such are July-Flowers, Fennel, Enula Campana, Clary, and Bloodwort: But I don't know any English Plant, Grain, or Fruit, that miscarries in Virginia; but most of them better their kinds very much, by being sowed or planted there. It was formerly said of the Redtop Turnip,

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that there in three or four years time, it degenerated into Rape; but that happen'd merely by an Error in saving the Seed; for now it appears, that if they cut off the top of such a Turnip, that has been kept out of the Ground all the Winter, and plant that top alone without the Body of the Root, it yields a Seed, which mends the Turnip in the next sowing.309

While Beverley is ostensibly extolling the superiority of American gardens,

gardening, and botanicals, he is focusing on the wide range of old world plants

which thrive in the new world, particularly noting medicinal agents such as Rue,

Southernwood, Lavender, Enula (Inula helenium, commonly known as

Elecampane),and Clary (Salvia sclarea). Indeed, the number of indigenous

medicinals here is slight by comparison, consisting solely of Sassafras and

Bloodwort (probably Sanguinaria canadensis). Although ostensibly a Colonial

tract extolling the primary virtues of American horticulture, Beverley’s work

remains largely English in botanical content, reflecting an extant Anglo-bias in

the colonies at the onset of the eighteenth-century.

Ancillary to the examination of the combining of Anglo-American plants

in garden lists is the consideration of how householders assimilated, adapted,

and combined both old and new world plants within preparations. Indeed,

combination of old and new world plants in Early Modern and Colonial domestic

prescribing occurred regularly, across the entire span of time under

consideration here, and in both English and American receipt books. In 1688,

Mary Glover of Sussex, England, wrote an eight-page-long, complex, detailed

‘Flower of Oyntment’ recipe in a hurried, dense script into her household receipt

309 Robert Beverley, The History and Present State of Virginia, Part IV. The Present State of the Country, as to the Polity of the Government, and the improvements of the Land. By a Native and Inhabitant of the Place, 1705, p.56.

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book.310 Glover’s recipe is in many ways typical of domestic lard-based

ointments, and draws heavily on a long tradition of unguents containing flowers.

The recipe differs substantively from its predecessors, however, both in its

detail, notably the very long accolade of the remedy’s multitude of uses, and in

its inclusion of a number of plants indigenous to the Americas. Alongside

mainstays of medieval and Early Modern botanical prescriptives, such as sage,

rose, celandine, and elder, Glover’s flower ointment contains three of the most

pervasive, influential, and biologically active of the American herbs to first enter

the European canon: sarsaparilla, sassafras, and guaiacum. Focusing on the

three Colonial plants suggested in Glover’s ‘cure-all’ ointment, this Chapter

examines this absorption of American botanicals into the English materia

medica, particularly that body of plants employed within the private household,

in order to ascertain how these plants impacted on, and were utilized by,

domestic medical practice across the trans-Atlantic Anglo-American world.

A second example of old and new world botanical combining, in this

instance for an internal remedy to be drunk, may be seen in Rachel Allen’s late

eighteenth-century Colonial recipe for ‘A Diet Drink to be Wrought in Beer’,

which calls for

2 handfulls of Water Cresses 2 handfulls of Sassafras roots 2 handfulls of Nettles 2 handfulls of Sasaborelle 2 pounds of Lignumvity 2 handfulls of Burdock roots 2 handfulls of Sweet Bryers Rots all this infuse in 3 or 4 gallons of Malt Beer – for the Consumption.311

310 BL. Ms.57944, fol.20r-23v, Mary Glover, Her Receipt Book, 1688. Glover suggests this ointment would benefit a number of ailments, including its use in treating the ‘stingings or bitings of any venoumous beast’. Recipes of this sort are discussed under vernacular medical works in chapter three. 311 NCSA.Coll.1467. John Allen Papers, Rachel Stout Allen, Medical Memorandum, (c.1780s).

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Here the indigenous sassafras and guaiacum (Lingnumvity) are employed

alongside the naturalized imports, nettle and burdock. Indeed, this is an

interesting recipe for its relative simplicity, and the clear parity of ‘usefulness’

and strength of action which the author attributes to all of the botanicals

suggested by her recommendation of equal amounts of each. While Beverley’s

earlier writing on American gardens had focused on English plants, Allen’s

manuscript from the end of the eighteenth-century gave equal emphasis to both

old and new world botanicals: American plants and the American medicines

made from them had achieved something close to parity with their European

counterparts in terms of usefulness and value for Colonial domestic authors.

In terms of their employment as medicines, botanicals take on various

aspects of those areas of botanical culture already examined. These plants

were subject to cross Atlantic cultural norms, with old world gardeners eager

and keen to import exotic new horticultural species on the one hand, and

domestic receipt books from England quickly reflecting interest in plants from

the Americas on the other.312 Likewise, botanical plants were clearly viewed as

both provisions and as commodity, illustrating the ongoing broad inclusion of

foods and, in particular, medicines, typical across the field in study.

312 For example, the Tracescants were horticultural explorers and nurserymen, for want of a better word, who published lists of the seeds available to for the general public to purchase. Their contribution to early modern horticulture and gardening has been well recorded, both in Leith-Ross and Potter’s works, as well as in Mea The Tradescants: their plants, gardens and museum, 1570-1662 (London: Michael Joseph, 1964), amongst others; the botanist Dr John Hope’s Journal of 1766 is analysed in John H. Harvey’s, ‘A Scottish Botanist in London in 1766’, Garden History, Vol.9, No.1 (Spring, 1981), pp.50-54, 57-58; similarly, Duthie’s work lists American plants in European contexts in ’The Planting Plans of Some Seventeenth-Century Flower Gardens‘, Garden History Society, Vol.18, No. 2 (Autumn, 1990) pp.77-102; and John Schofield lists a number of American plants in ‘City of London Gardens, 1500 – c.1620’, Garden History, Vol 27, No.1, Tudor Gardens (Summer, 1999), pp. 73-88.

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A number of new world plants identified by Early Modern Colonial writers

as exhibiting attributed medical actions, however, clearly were not adopted by

Anglo-American culture on either side of the Atlantic, by either ‘grand’ or ‘little’

traditions. Indeed, indigenous new world, specifically North American,

botanicals known as medicinal agents which do not appear either in the

marchandizes or in domestic sources appear in a number of Colonial vernacular

works. Lawson writes of ‘the Indian tea’ which is

us'd and approv'd by all the Savages on the Coast of Carolina, and from them sent to the Westward Indians, and sold at a considerable Price. All which they cure after the same way, as they do for themselves; which is thus: They take this Plant (not only the Leaves, but the smaller Twigs along with them) and bruise it in a Mortar, till it becomes blackish, the Leaf being wholly defaced: Then they take it out, put it into one of their earthen Pots which is over the Fire, till it smoaks; stirring it all the time, till it is cur'd. Others take it, after it is bruis'd, and put it into a Bowl, to which they put live Coals, and cover them with the Yaupon, till they have done smoaking, often turning them over. After all, they spread it upon their Mats, and dry it in the Sun. to keep for Use. The Spaniards in New-Spain have this Plant very plentifully on the Coast of Florida, and hold it in great Esteem. Sometimes they cure it as the Indians do; or else beat it to a Powder, so mix it, as Coffee; yet before they drink it, they filter the same. They prefer it above all Liquids, to drink with Physick, to carry the same safely and speedily thro' the Passages, for which it is admirable, as I myself have experimented.313

Although Lawson has himself tried, and tested, the medicinal qualities of the

tea, and found it agreeable (particularly as a carrier of other botanicals), the

plant does not typically occur in either vernacular medical works or in the

domestic manuscripts, regardless of their provenance or origin. Likewise, the

hallucinogen, Datura stramonium (also known as Jimson week, or James Town

weed), appears in the journals of Colonial diarists, but does not commonly

appear in domestic recipes of the period. Nonetheless, there is a clear 313 Lawson, A New Voyage to Carolina; (London: 1700), Op.cit. p. 21-22.

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familiarity on the part of settlers with both jimson weed and its properties:

Lawson writes of the ‘James-Town-Weed, so called from Virginia, the Seed it

bears is very like that of an Onion; it is excellent for curing Burns, and

asswaging Inflammations, but taken inwardly brings on a sort of drunken

Madness’.314 While Beverley quite dramatically writes of its effects in a long

passage:

The James-Town Weed (which resembles the Thorny Apple of Peru, and I take to be the Plant so call'd) is supposed to be one of the greatest Coolers in the World. This being an early Plant, was gather'd very young for a boil'd Salad, by some of the Soldiers sent thither, to pacific the Troubles of Bacon; and some of them eat plentifully of it, the Effect of which was a very pleasant Comedy; for they turn'd natural Fools upon it for several Days: One would blow up a Feather in the Air; another wou'd dart Straws at it with much Fury; and another stark naked was sitting up in a Corner, like a Monkey, grinning and making Mows at them; a Fourth would fondly kiss, and paw his Companions, and snear in their Faces, with a Countenance more antick, than any in a Dutch Droll. In this frantick Condition they were confined, lest they should in their Folly destroy themselves; though it was observed, that all their Actions were full of Innocence and good Nature. Indeed, they were not very cleanly; for they would have wallow'd in their own Excrements, if they had not been prevented. A Thousand such simple Tricks they play'd, and after Eleven Days, return'd to themselves again, not remembring anything that had pass'd.315

Beverley’s account of the hallucinatory effects of Datura here suggest personal

knowledge of the botanical, while Lawson’s briefer description illustrates that

knowledge of the plant’s topical applications was also appreciated.

Interestingly, both authors refer to the ‘cooling’ nature of the plant, suggesting

that, at least for these authors, and the tradition which they represent, humoral

theory is being applied to new world plants.

314 John Lawson, IBID, p.78. 315 Beverley, Robert; Book Two: Of the Natural Product and Conveniencies of Virginia, In its Unimprov’d State, before the English went thither.p.24.

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Aquas and the Communal Practice

There is a clear parity of botanical usage in Early Modern English and

Colonial American households in terms of the recipe contents and preparation

instructions to be found in domestic receipt books. This parity is seen in a

number of specific ‘common’ recipes, such as those for the ‘aquas’ (mirabilis

and vitae being obvious examples, but others, such as mithridate, also

appearing across sources) while a commonality of practice may equally be

traced in looking to the trans-Atlantic practice of combining old and new world

plants in a variety of preparations. For example, there are versions of a

metheglin recipe in most receipt books, from Grace Baumfylde’s receipt book of

1626 through to Lettice Pudsey’s Receipt Book of 1700.316 Recipes for Aqua

vitae were likewise virtually universal, appearing not only in the domestic

sources, but also in vernacular books such as Hartman’s Family Physitian

(1682). 317 Aqua vitae as a single botanical entity is further to be found in more

complex examples of polypharmacy botanicals. For example, it provides the

base menstruum for other remedies in both vernacular and domestic works.

The first of these may be seen in the ‘A Corda[...]l Water of Clove Gilly flowers‘

recipe included in Hartman’s Family Physician of 1682, while domestic

examples include Elizabeth Hirst’s English late-seventeenth-century recipe ’To

Make Usquebath’ calling for the householder to ‘Take Aquavitae of sack Lees

316 FSL.ms.V.a.456, fol.27, Mary Baumfyld, ‘White Metheglin’, Receipt Book, 1626; FSL.ms.V.a.450[1], fol.32r, Lettice Pudsey’s receipt book; Metheglin recipes may also be found in FSL.ms. V.a.425, fol.9, Sarah Longe, Receipt Book; FSL.ms.V.b.14, Jane Dawson, cookery book, c.1650-1699, pdf.19; V.b.301, fol.19, Grace (Blome) Randolph, cookery book (‘Randolph receipt book’), 1697; BL., ms.EG2214, fol.6v, Katherine Davies, Op.cit.; BL., ms.A579, fol.24v, Mary Glover, Op.cit., which further lists ‘the virtues therof’ associated with metheglin use. 317 George Hartman, Family Physitian, 1682; FSL.ms. V.a.215, fols.49, 93, Susanna Pack’s Recipt Book.

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one Gallon, shugar as fine as you can get a quartr of a pound’ before adding

further botanicals, and Hannah Huthwaite’s mid-eighteenth-century Colonial

‘Receipt for a Syatick Pain’ combining ‘Bordeaux vinegar, and … aqua vita’ as

the base menstruum.318 Aqua vitae may be further found as a single ingredient

in a compound mixture in other, non-remedial remedies, such as Mary Hooke’s

winter ink recipe where she recommends adding ‘a Little Aquavite; [so that] itt

will nott frize’.319 Aqua vitae was valued as an agent, both in its own right, and

in combination with other ingredients across the span of the period covered by

the thesis, as well as on either side of the Atlantic. As a single example of

continued practice, this herbal preparation illustrates well the commonality of

materia medica, not only in terms of the raw botanicals contained within it, but

also equally, of the broader practice employing them.

Recipes for Aqua mirabilis may also be found in virtually all of the

manuscripts, including the English Granville Receipt Book, Rose Kendall and

Ann Cater’s book, and the writing of Elizabeth Freke, Margaret Baker, Mary

Glover, Mary Hookes, Jane Dawson, Lady Grace Castleton, and Lettice

Pudsey, as well as in the Colonial works of Rebeckah Winche and Martha

Washington.320 Aqua mirabilis recipes were particularly fashionable in early

318 Hartman, IBID; WL.ms.2840, fol.38, Elizabeth Hirst, Receipts, 1684-c.1725; Wint.L.Doc.193, f.55r, Hannah Huthwaite’s Recipe Book (c.1720). 319 FSL.ms.A931, fol.110r, Mary Hookes’ receipt book. 320 FSL.ms.V.a.430, fol.10, Mary Granville, and Anne Granville Dewes’ Receipt Book, 1740; FSL.ms.V.a. 429, fol.28, Rose Kendell & Ann Cater, ‘there Book’, 1682, (with later addition attributed to Anne Maria Wentworth, Her Book, 1725); BL., ms.A45718, fol.143, Elizabeth Freke, Her Booke; BL., ms.S2485, fol.pl41r, Margaret Baker’s Receipt Book, 1672; BL., ms.A57944, fol.19r, Mary Glover’s Book, 1688; FSL.ms.A931, fol.68, Mary Hookes, Receipt Book, 1680; FSL.ms.V.b.14, fol.17v, Jane Dawson, Book; FSL.ms.A940, fol. 6r, Lady Grace Castleton, Receipt Book; FSL.ms.V.a.450[1], fol.62v, Lettic Pudsey, Receipt Book, 1700, Receipts; Rebeckah Winche’s Receipt book, 1666 (private collection); HSP. (Phi)Am.530.3.a., Washington Family Papers, Martha Washington, Booke of cookery and booke of sweetmeats : being a family manuscript, curiously copied by an unknown hand sometime in the seventeenth

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seventeenth-century receipt books, as seen in Mrs Corlyon’s ‘The makinge and

vertues of Aqua mirabilis et pretiosa’ or 1601, Lady Frances Catchmay’s ‘The

makinge of aqua mirabilis and preci a wch is of singuler vertue’, 1629, and Jane

Jackson’s simple recipe for ‘Aqua mirabilis et pretiosa’, while the receipt book of

Elizabeth Jacob (and others) contains five separate recipes, including one titled

‘Aqua Mirabilis’, three others ‘To make Aqua mirabilis’, and a fifth for ‘a Water

for the Lunges, and the Coldness of the Stomach, Call’d Aqua mirabilis’. 321

Moreover, Aqua mirabilis recipes typically contained similar botanicals across

the Anglo-American spectrum: a recipe for ‘Mrs. Hobby's ‘Aqua Mirabilis’’ is the

very first entry in Rebeckah Winche’s American Receipt Book of 1666, and

three versions, along with a long, detailed passage on ‘the uertues of this water’

may be found in Martha Washington’s late eighteenth-century Colonial

manuscript.322 Each of these recipes tend to be made up of numerous similar

botanicals, and in each case, these remedies contain a range of imported,

exotic ‘hard’ spices which are typically distilled off first, followed by a second,

‘soft’ native English herb distillate. For example, Mary Hookes’ English

‘Aquamarabillis’ recipe of 1680 calls for ‘galangal, cubebs, sinamon, cardaman

seeds, cloves’ (along with other botanicals), while Washington’s recipes for

Aquimirabelis are all variations on a theme, with the first calling for ‘gallinggall,

century, which was in her keeping from 1749, the time of her marriage to Daniel Custis, to 1799, at which time she gave it to Eleanor Parke Custis, her granddaughter, on the occasion of her marriage to Lawrence Lewis. (1749-1799), recipes 269-272. 321 WL.ms..213/93 Mrs Corlyon, Receipt Book, 1606;WL.ms.184/6, Lady Frances Catchmay, Receipts, 1629; WL.ms.373/68Jackson, Jane Receipt Book, 1642; WL.ms.3009/16 f.42,p.60, 172, 202, Elizabeth Jacob, physicall and chyrurgicall receipts, 1590-c.1685. 322 Rebeckah Winche’s Receipt book, 1666 ; 1 v. and 1 envelope. Notes: Dated 1666, but includes entries for events from 1654-1705. Scope and content: Collection of cookery and medical recipes and family history. Includes records of births, baptisms, marriages and baptisms in ‘Chiswick Parish neere London, 1654-1705. (Now in anonymous private collection); HSP. (Phi)Am.530.3.a., Washington Family Papers, Martha Washington, Booke of cookery and booke of sweetmeats : being a family manuscript, curiously copied by an unknown hand sometime in the seventeenth century, which was in her keeping from 1749, the time of her marriage to Daniel Custis, to 1799, at which time she gave it to Eleanor Parke Custis, her granddaughter, on the occasion of her marriage to Lawrence Lewis. (1749-1799), recipes 269-272.

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quibbibs, licorish, annyseeds, cloves, nutmett, cinnamon, mace, & ginger’

before adding ‘mellilot, … angelico, cowslips, mayden hayr, margerum,

dragons, balme, mint, heart tongue, pimpernel, bay leaves, liverwort’ with the

possible addition ‘if you like ye taste’ of ye flowers of rosemary, cowslips,

bittonu, & mary goulds, Jilleflowers, & red roses, burrage, & buglos’ before

finally adding ‘ye Juice of sullendine’.323

A particularly interesting version of aqua mirabilis may be found in

Frances Springatt‘s manuscript from mid-seventeenth-century England which

calls for the householder to

Take on quart of ye Juce of Salendine, Bame, and Spermint, and to yt quantity put 2 quarts of Brandy and 2 quarts of white wine and Drugs from ye Apotecaries and put it in astill and still it of very soft and into every bottle put a knob of Lofe Sugger

Ye Drugs are thus

Gallingall, Cardimoms, Cubibs, Melelets fflowers, Cloves, Mace Nutmegs ginger of Each a Dram all Bruised -–

The Early Modern treatment of spices as consumables indicated by Springatt’s

recipe is one which regards them as medical botanicals in the first instance, as

she instructs their purchase from the apothecary rather than the market. The

parity of both the inclusion and employment of botanicals in aqua recipes

across English and American sources in the seventeenth- and early eighteenth-

century sources clearly illustrates a shared, and common, domestic botanical

culture.

323 Ken Spelman Manuscripts, Rebeckah Winche, Receipt book, 1666, Op.cit.; FSL., a.931, Hookes, Mary, cookery book, c.1675-1725. HSP., (Phi)Am.530.3.a., Washington Family Papers, IBID.

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In each of these recipes there is a mixture of typically old world spices

and fresh garden herbs, often distilled into a pre-existing distillate. This is an

altogether typical combination of hard and soft botanical material, and the clear

staging of the recipe preparation is suggestive of domestic differentiation in

dealing with these different materials. There are exceptions to this theme,

however, which suggest a degree of adaptability on the part of the producer.

For example, Washington’s second recipe, contrarily begins with the soft,

herbaceous material, calling for the producer to take ‘ye Juice of sellandine’,

and add ‘mint; mellilot flowers, rosasolis, cardimons, quibbibs, gallinggall, mace,

nutmegs, cloves, and ginger … one handful of the flowers of Cowslips; and a

little saffron’ all in one go, before boiling away – an action which would destroy

much of the sensitive constituents of the herbaceous material. And her third

receipt omits virtually all of the soft herbaceous garden herbs, and calls for the

hard spices ‘cloves, mace, cardimoms, seeds, ginger, and gallinggal, nutmegs,

quibbibs, and mellilot’ to be added to a mixed menstruum of ‘good white wine,

or else sack, and two pintes of Aquavite or Aquicompesita, and two pintes of the

Juice of Sellandine’.324

While all of Washington’s recipes may seem superficially similar, their

end products would have been substantially different, either as a result of

differing production methods (variation of the sequence of ingredient used and

changes to the extremity and duration of heat to which they were subjected), or

in their omission of ingredients altogether. Clearly the last of these recipes

would be well suited to the needs of householders who have no recourse to the

324 HSP.(Phi)Am.530.3.a., Washington Family Papers, Op.cit. recipes 271 & 272.

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soft herbs, and are entirely reliant on imported medical botanicals, though the

rationale behind the differences between the first two receipts is less obvious.

What is curious about the three when viewed as a group, is the lack of any

reflective instruction surrounding the differing receipts: they are presented

simply as ‘au fait’ recipes, with an unstated assumption on the part of the author

that each may be used in a similar fashion to the other.

Recipes for aqua vitae also vary across authors. Writing in the late

sixteenth-century, Lady Grace Mildmay sends detailed instructions on the

preparation of an Aqua vitae which closely resembles some of the Aqua

mirabilis recipes in a letter to her housekeeper begun ‘My good Bess’,

Evening on Tuesday distil of some of the aqua vitae from the tinctures, but not too near. Then strain and wring out hard the gums and spices from the liquor and put them to the extracted liquor of the herbs. Then put the tinctures of the cordials, rhubarb, agaric and aloes … Use your own discretion herein, but this is the form and matter.325

The recipe ‘To Make aqua vite’ found in Mrs Carr’s Receipt Book of 1682, on

the other hand, calls for a very simple compound, the householder instructed to

simply ‘Take 2 gallons of the lees of sacke half a pound of Annyseeds 3

quarters of a pound of liquors well scraped & beated put it into the liquor & putt

on the symbex & let it distill softly with a soft fire’.326 Many of the recipes to be

found in vernacular printed texts of the period seem to mimic the aqua mirabilis

and aqua vitae of Mildmay, similarly containing a range of gums and hard

spices with the softer, herbaceous garden herbs. Hartman’s recipe for ‘A rare

Cordial Water called the Royal Aqua Vitae’ calls for the householder to

325 NRO, W/A vol.55, fol.1, Lady Grace Mildmay, Medical Papers. 326 WL.ms.1511, fol.31v, Mrs Carr’s Receipt Book,1682.

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Take Lignum, Aloes, Roots of Zedoary, Angelica, Carline, Thistle, and Valerian, of each one ounce; Cinamon, Mace, and Citon-rind, of each six drams; Cloves, lesser Cardamoms, and sweet Fennel-seed, of each half an ounce; flowers of Rosemary, Sage and Marjoram, of each two small handfuls, which is to be bruised, and put them into a stone Jugg or Bottle with Spirit of Wine and Malmsey Wine, of each four pints; stop the Vessel close and them macerate in a warm Bath for three days, then distil them in a sand Bath, or in Balneo Mariae, dissolving in the distilled water fine Sugar, then put it up for use. And if you would have it perfumed, you may dissolve in it Ambergreece and Musk, of each half a dram. This Water is much esteemed and used by all the Nobles in France: The perfection of it is, that although there be not many Ingredients, yet they are of great vertue. It fortifieth the Brain, Head and Stomach, strengthens the Memory, comforts the Heart, reviveth the Spirits when enfeebled by the 147 distillation of the Spirits, or overpressed by the abundance of ill qualities or bad humors. It is to be taken fasting, from one spoonful to three in some proper liquor.327

Hartman does, however, deviate from the more standard domestic preparations

in his ‘Excellent Syrup of Aqua Vitae for a Cold or Cough, or Shortness of

Breath’, using a base made from a reduced brandy and sugar mixture to which

is added ‘Oximel of Squills, which is a most Sovereign thing for the Breast and

Lungs, Phthisick, Astma, and Shortness of Breath’.328 Not only is the

menstruum fundamentally different from the aqueous household remedies, but

it also differs in containing only one botanical, and that is neither a typical hard

spice, nor a gum. Indeed, by Early Modern and Colonial standards, this recipe

is related to aqua vitae in name only, differing entirely in spirit from the accepted

remedy. Mirroring the vernacular remedies, Jane Jackson’s mid-seventeenth

and mid-eighteenth-century aqua mirabilis et pretiosa recipe is preceeded by

one for ‘A good aquavite’, while a recipe ‘To still aqua vite’ appears next to

recipes ‘To make the best aqua composite’ and ‘A very good aqua coposita to

bee mixed with rosasolis cordiall and comfortable’. These examples show that

327 George Hartman, Family Physitian, 1682, p.147. 328 IBID, p.204.

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both vernacular and domestic authors produced standardized, as well as

individualized, versions of standard aqua recipes.

The vernacular books assume that householders will have a quantity of

aqua vitae to hand. Hartman alone uses it repeatedly as a single ingredient in

more complex remedies, including in his ‘ Excellent Cordial Water for Surfeits,

and for an Ague’ calling for ‘six quarts of Aqua Vitae’ to which are added ‘ a

peck of red Poppy-flowers, … Figs and Raisins stoned, of each two ounces;

[and] Aniseeds beaten, half an ounce’, as well as his ‘Corda[...]l Water of Clove

Gilly flowers’ which uses aqua vitae as the aqueous based menstruum for a

simple ‘Clove Gill-flow|ers’ distillation.329 But domestic authors also employ

aquas in this manner. On landing at Cape Cod, Edward Winslow wrote that

… we marched through boughs and bushes, and under hills and valleys, which tore our very armor in pieces, and yet could meet with none of them [Native Americans], nor their houses, nor find any fresh water, which we greatly desired and stood in need of; for we brought neither beer nor water with us, and our victuals was only biscuit and Holland cheese, and a little bottle of aqua-vitae, so as we were sore athirst.330

Winslow’s account demonstrates early settler awareness that aqua vitae did

little to relieve thirst, and yet its inclusion in their carefully rationed pack of

supplies suggests that it was highly valued by the party. This in turn suggests

that it may well have been included either as a direct medicine in its own right,

used to clean wounds, for example, or as a simple ‘restorative’, or as an

extraction agent for producing simple, direct herbal products ‘on the hoof’,

combined, for example, with indigenous plants to make spontaneous tinctures

and other simple botanical products.

329 IBID, pp. 153, 149. 330 Edward Winslow, Young (ed.) Chronicles of the Pilgrim Fathers, Op.cit., p.128

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Winslow’s inclusion of aqua vitae in his listed supplies supports earlier

domestic use of aqua vitae as a botanical in its own right, as seen in Grace

Mildmay’s Norfolk ‘aqua vitae’ recipe from the late-sixteenth-century or early-

seventeenth-century, which is a preparation of aniseed and liquorice steeped in

strong ale, rather than as a simple ‘rectified spirit’.331 There is, however a

twofold development: a willingness to embrace what is to hand, and a

distancing from more complex botanical polypharmacy, illustrated by the later

eighteenth-century American domestic use of botanicals. It may well be this

Colonial development which explains confusion over the definition of many

waters existent in current scholarly discourse, with a simple equation of the

later, Colonial, ‘simple spirituous’ menstruum with the far more subtle, complex,

botanically active Early Modern English aquas. A further example of the

development, and differentiation, between Early Modern English and Colonial

American employment of waters as base menstruums may be found in the

domestic sources. A comparison of Lady Grace Mildmay’s English receipt for

the preparation of guaiacum written in the late-sixteenth century with similar

instructions in Catherine Haines’ Philadelphia ‘notebook’ of 1770 highlights the

difference in old and new world raw materials.332 Haines’ use of rum as a

menstruum for her tincture, rather than in one of the ‘old world’ waters, whether

this be Mildmay’s ‘mithridate’, or aqua vitae, is clearly an instance of new world

adaptation. Not only is she using the solvent to hand, but that solvent is not, in

its own right, a compound botanical with medicinal purposes. Undoubtedly rum

331 Mildmay’s aqua vitae recipe is cited in Pollocks With Faith in Physic, Op.dit., pp.137 332 NRO, W/A .vol.33, fols.58-60, Lady Grace Mildmay, Medical Papers; APS.ms.coll.52-ead, series III: Wyck Association Collection, Reuben Haines, Box 87: Folder 2, fol.11v, Catharine Haines, Notebook, 1776.

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was used for medicinal purposes, as both an antiseptic and as a ‘warming’

agent, but this use is specific to its alcohol, rather than herbal, content.

Early English appreciation for American medicinal plants is reflected in

the early assimilation of American botanicals into the English materia medica,

an appreciation which may be traced back into the Anglo Colonial practice, as

will be discussed in Chapter Six. Equally, old world plants clearly formed the

bulk of domestic medical agency in the colonies from the onset of settlement

through emancipation. Indeed, the import of European and Asian plants into the

colonies remained consistently important, even as Colonial botanical cultures

began to devolve their own materia medica. In his early eighteenth-century

History and Present State of Virginia, Robert Beverley wrote that ‘as for Spicery,

and other things that the Country don't produce, they have constant supplies of

'em from England’.333 The fundamental characteristics of shared botanical lists

and individual adaptation key to the Anglo-American domestic botanical culture

are everywhere apparent in Early Modern English and Colonial American

sources. Authors, both domestic and vernacular, consistently include lists of

medicine making equipment for domestic production of botanicals, medicinal

plants from both sides of the Atlantic are perceived as critical provisions by all

authors, and a clear commonality of agency and practice shows that this truly

was a shared British culture. Indeed, the willingness of individual authors to use

similar plants and follow inherited communal preparations while adapting

botanicals to incorporate new material, suggests an appreciation for the plants’

medical action, as well as a practical flexibility on the part of the practitioners. 333 Robert Beverley, The History and Present State of Virginia, Part IV. The Present State of the Country, as to the Polity of the Government, and the improvements of the Land. By a Native and Inhabitant of the Place, 1705, p.54.

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The willingness of Americans to employ new menstruums in their botanical

preparations hints at the beginning of a divergent culture, one which is further

explored by considering botanicals employed in the eighteenth-century Colonial

materia medica in Chapter Six.

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Chapter 5. Inherited Cultures: Old World Botanical s

The trans-Atlantic Anglo-American domestic botanical culture explored in

Chapter Four was largely based on an inherited, old world materia medica.

Chapter Five examines this body of old world plants, reinforcing the

commonality of plants used across the practice, and highlighting ways in which

individual practitioners adapted these to their own household needs. As such,

Chapter Five looks to both more fully ‘flesh out’ what a shared Anglo-American

domestic botanical culture consisted of, as well as looking to retrieve specific

plant knowledge from that culture, recovering use and practice. Examination of

these old world plants allows for a greater appreciation for these dual aspects of

the underlying domestic culture by highlighting the extent to which each typified

botanical use in Anglo-American homes across the period, and on either side of

the Atlantic. The thesis’ consideration of plants here takes place largely in the

context of domestic receipts, with reference to popular literature, travel writing,

and settler texts, particularly in light of how domestic recipes relate to settler

‘lists’ of plants. The Chapter first considers the list of plants included in John

Josselyn’s travel writings as a basis from which to establish commonality of

materia medica, before turning to examine both shared, and divergent, traits in

the treatment of specific old world botanicals between domestic authors.

A case study approach is adopted here, as in Chapter Six. This allows

the thesis to establish the key principles of the prevailing domestic culture in

detail by demonstrating that domestic authors were consistently drawing upon a

single materia medica which was then flexibly adapted by individual authors in

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preparing and applying the herbs. In every instance but one, any number of

representative plant substances from the domestic canon would have fruitfully

served to highlight this duality of the domestic culture. The representatives

chosen: rose for flowers, cinnamon for spices (seed and bark), and elderberry

for fruit, each illustrate domestic agency and ingenuity in various ways which

might well have been served equally well by lavender, ginger, or dried grapes,

or clove gillyflower, clove, and hawthorn berry. The botanicals examined here

were chosen, however, for their commonality in the popular literature as much

as for their frequency of use in domestic receipt books. The one old world

botanical which is largely singular in its application is the poppy, which holds a

deservedly unique and prominent place in both domestic and learned materia

medica.

The European Canon: Old World Herbs and New World D emands

Early Modern and Colonial authors of vernacular settler texts include lists

of old world botanicals as items of primary importance.334 In his New England’s

Plantation, or A short and True Description of the Commodities and

Discommodities of that Country of 1630, for example, the English Puritan

minister and early settler of the northern American colonies, Francis Higginson,

specified a need for cloves, mace, pepper, cinnamon, and nutmeg as well both

‘1 Gallon of Aquavitae’ and enough grains and fats to constitute the ‘Victuals for

a whole yeere for a man’.335 Similar examples of old world remedial culinary

334 ‘Settler texts’ = books intended to both promote and inform settlement of the colonies. 335 Reverend Francis Higginson, New England’s Plantation, or, A short and True Description of the Commodities and Discommodities of that Country, (London, 1630).

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botanicals designated for use in the new world may also be found in the English

travel writer, William Wood’s pamphlet of 1639. Wood notes that the ‘juice of

lemons, well put up, is good either to prevent or cure the scurvy’, and suggests

that (along with rather generous allowances of various alcoholic beverages) the

well provisioned householder will want a variety of ‘strong-waters, &c.’ as well

as ‘honey, nutmegs, cloves’ and the like.336 While a culinary historian might

well see this inclusion of spices as an occasion to commend early settlers on

their desire to better their palate, the inclusion of these botanicals is more likely

to reflect the medical needs of the Early Modern and Colonial lay population.

The blurring of the boundaries between foods and medicines is again

reinforced: spices may have been desirable as food enhancers, but they were

necessary as medicaments. Entirely derived from the English botanical canon,

Higginson’s and Woods’ lists clearly illustrates that both the medicinal and the

nutritive were deemed to be of equal import for Colonial survival.

The English traveller, John Josselyn, also called for similar ‘cross over’

provisions such as mustard and vinegar (both crop up regularly in both culinary

and medicinal recipes in receipt books), but further outlined a list ‘For private

fresh provision’ which, while clearly indebted to Wood’s list, provided greater

rationale:

You may carry with you (in case you, or any of yours should be sick at Sea) conserves of Roses, Clove-Gilliflowers, Wormwood, Green-Ginger, Burnt-Wine [brandy, also discussed at length by Wood], English Spirits … Nutmeg, Mace,

336 William Wood, ‘What Provision is made for a Journey at Sea and what to carry with us for our use at Land’, from New-England’s Prospect, being a true, lively and experimental Description of that part of America commonly called New-England, London 1639.

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Cinnamon, Pepper and Ginger … juice of Lemmons well put to cure, or prevent the Scurvy.337

Josselyn, like Higginson, reckoned that ‘One Gallon of Aqua vitae’ as well as

‘One Gallon of Oyl [and] Two Gallons of Vinegar’ needed ‘to be carried out of

England for one man’, and noted that ‘of Sugar and Spice ... your best way is to

buy your Sugar there, for it is cheapest, but for Spice you must carry it over with

you’. This last admonishment is crucial in highlighting the dependency of the

colonies even towards the end of the seventeenth-century on old world

provisioning for much of the domestic materia medica. But it is equally

important to note that none of these provision lists were written by, or for,

medical professionals: they were produced specifically for a lay audience, and

meant to educate the common householder as to what provisions would be

needed on arrival in the new world. Not only were Colonialists beholden to the

importation of many of their medicinal agents, but householders clearly intended

to employ them, and indeed, would have been competent and knowledgeable in

doing so.

While the thesis does not mean to imply that ‘Josselyn’s list’ is the

defining, or determinant list of Anglo-American plants used by households, it

neatly serves as a bridge between the two sides of the Atlantic, prefaced by

English, and appended by Colonial, receipts. Of those old world botanicals

listed as best suited to addressing the medical needs of the Colonialists in

transit and on arrival in the new world, there is a relatively equal split of

indigenous English plants and ‘exotics’ (from both the far east and the near

337 John Josselyn, provisions list from An Account of Two Voyages to New-England, 2nd edition, London, 1675

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east. Josselyn’s list, including rose, clove-gilliflower, wormwood, green-ginger,

nutmeg, mace, cinnamon, pepper, ginger, and lemon, provides a starting point

for ‘old world’ plants with a clear provenance for medical usage in the new

world. Indeed, the majority of domestic remedies from both sides of the Atlantic

are built around, or at least include, herbs listed by Josselyn in various

combinations. All of the botanicals found in ‘Josselyn’s list’ exist in the earlier

English domestic receipt books, suggesting that this, and other advisory lists of

medical plants, reflected the pre-existing domestic culture. In promoting their

use to settlers, moreover, these lists further established the culture as a broad,

trans-Atlantic entity.

The botanicals found in ‘Josselyn’s list’ are found in household receipt

examples across the whole of the culture, from examples of complex English

polypharmacy remedies through Colonial ‘simples’, speaking to continuity of the

domestic materia medica. For example, Lady Grace Mildmay’s late-sixteenth-

century and the mid-eighteenth-century Heppington manuscripts both contain

multiple examples of polypharmacy remedies which include virtually all of

Josselyn’s botanicals. In the first instance, Mildmay’s receipt for a ‘cordial

water’ combined soft, northern European herbaceous plants: sage, balm

(Melissa officinalis), rosemary, marjoram, mint, pennyroyal, calamint,

elderflowers, and red rose with ‘exotic’ hard spices such as cloves, nutmeg,

white and black peppers, cardamom, cinnamon, mastic, and olibanum. A very

similar combination may be seen in a polypharmacy ‘wound drink’ taken from

the Heppington work which called for the householder to

Gather these herbs following in ye month of may & Dry them in a close roome free from aire & turn them once a Day till they be

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First take of these herbs 3 handfulls & put them into a quart of white wine & a pottle of spring water & boyll it together till a 3d part of it be wasted yn strain ye liquer from ye herbs yn put to it a pint of Hony set it on ye fire.

Dry yn mingle them altogether & put them into a canvas bag & they will keep all ye year you must get your buds in april ye names are as follows

Prunells sothern wood strawbery leaves Wood betony dasy roots & sanatle Egrymony Leaves herby grase Golden rood mints hawthorn buds Ribworth wild angelica Selfe hele Oackbuds bugle plantine san rafine Dragons lungwort Sinkfield hunny suckle violet flowes Bramble buds sabius dandelion Bramble buds wormwood comfily Comfrey mugworth corehounce White bottles avens . 338

As was the case with Mildmay’s earlier remedy, the herbaceous portion was

followed by an equally bountiful list of hard spices, and a second, longer

maceration.339 Clearly English domestic authors across a wide chronological

span were comfortable with the mixed nature and complex preparation

demands necessitated by combining varied botanical materials in these

remedies. Thus the eighteenth-century Heppington receipt mirrors the inherited

list of plants seen in Mildmay’s sixteenth-century work, with a high degree of

knowledge and skill underlying their preparation production on the part of the

author seen in each, and each containing several plants listed in the interim

writings of Josselyn.

338 NRO.ms.W/A misc.vols. 33, ff.25-7, Lady Mildmay’s medical papers. 339 WL.ms.7997, Vol.1, unfoliated, Heppington Receipts, p.54-55. Prunells may refer to any member of the Prunus family (including plums and cherries); sanatle possibly = Sanicula europaea L, also known as sanicle; san rafine = ? uncertain; white bottle could be white bottle brush, Callistemon shiressi, though this plant is indigenous to Australia, and its inclusion in a domestic colonial American source mid-eighteenth-century is unlikely as it was only introduced in England by Joseph Bankes in 1789, slightly more plausible is Lagenaria siceraria, the bottle gourd, or white-flowered gourd, a plant originally of African origin which was established in European plant canon in the middle ages (it appeared in Walahfrid Strabo’s Carolingian writings of the ninth-century), and was established in the Americas prior to European settlement; sabius = scabius, Scabiosa spp.; corehound= horehound, Marrubium vulgare.

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Complex old world combinations may also be seen in otherwise

simplified remedies from American sources, demonstrating the shared botanical

canon in colonial use. For example, Abigail Adams’ letter dated October 1775

outlined the treatment of what she refered to as both ‘dysentary’ and

‘distemper’, combining the aromatic spices (nutmeg, clove & cinnamon) with

purgatives:

I shall write every day if I am able. Pray let me hear from you often. Heaven preserve both your life and health and all my sufferings will be but small. By the first safe conveyance be kind eno to send me 1 oz. of turkey Rhubub, the root, and to procure me 1 quarter lb. of nutmegs for which here I used to give 2.8 Lawful, 1 oz. cloves, a of cinnamon. You may send me only a few of the nutmegs till Bass returns. I should be glad of 1 oz. of Indian root. So much sickness has occasiond a scarcity of Medicine.340

Although the Colonial manuscript receipts tend, on the whole, to be less

congested with complex plant combinations, they do reflect the continued

willingness to use old world herbs, both ‘hard’ and ‘soft’. Catherine Haines’

modified polypharmaceutical ‘Diet Drink’ from Colonial Philadelphia, for

example, contains English ‘Scurvy Grass or Water Cress … Horse Radish roots

… Sena … Saffron, Fennel, Aniseed, Angelica [and] Balm’ with the simple

instructions to ‘Boil the wood & roots’.341 While Elizabeth Coates Paschall’s

early-eighteenth-century Colonial receipt ‘for the Bite of a [new world] Rattle

Snake’ uses the simple old world ‘Juice of Plantain the common sort’, and

Margaretta Prentis’s Williamsburg manuscript of 1755 used nutmeg in a remedy

340 MHS. Adams Family Papers: Letter from Abigail Adams to John Adams, 8 - 10 September 1775. Indian root probably refers to Aralia racemosa, also known as American spikehead or American spikenard. 341APS.ms.coll.52-ead, series III: W/A, Reuben Haines, Box 87: Folder 2, fol.7v, Catharine Haines, Notebook, 1776.

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‘for disordered bowels’.342 Indeed, early American dependency on English

botanicals may be seen in receipts ranging from Prentis’s remedy ‘for a Cough’

with rosemary, comfrey, hyssop, ground ivy, thyme, elecampane, and inula, to

Abigail Adams instruction to her husband, suffering from a cold, to ‘take two

Teaspoon full in any tea drink of Hysop or Sage, or Balm at Bed time’.343 All of

these plants have ‘old world’ origins, and the availability of both naturalized

British plants such as scurvy grass and plantain along with imported old world

exotics such as nutmeg show an ongoing willingness, indeed, a perceived

necessity, to embrace the whole of the inherited European canon. ‘Josselyn’s

list’ of botanicals clearly represents part of that shared ‘old world’ materia

medica which formed the basis of a combined Atlantic botanical culture.

Further examples of botanical remedies containing only one or two of

Josselyn’s recommended staples are equally common. For example, of all of

the herbs in Josselyn’s list, only rose occurs in Mary Doggett’s early-

seventeenth-century English manuscript recipe for infectious diseases with skin

eruptions (she specifies measles and smallpox) though a further thirty two

botanicals not included are specified:

A surfitt water good for Measells small Pox or other Infections/ … Take Sallendine Sage Rosemary Rue wormwood Mugwort Pempernell Dragon Scabies Agrimony Balme Scordium Centry, Cardus, Benedictus Bittony Rose Solis Angelico, Germander, Burnett, Vervine Liverwort, Hartstongue, Spearmint, Mary golds flowers, Sweet margarem, mother of time of each a good handful/ Angelico rootes, jentian, Tormentill roots Ledoary, Liquorish of each half an ounch. Slice ye roots and wash ye herbs and Shake and dry ym in a cloth shred them into a Gallon

342 CP.ms.168289.Class 20e.No.352, fol.8, Elizabeth Coates Paschall’ Receipt Book, 1702-1753; UP.ms.5034-4, unfoliated, Margaretta Prentis’s Cookery & Medical Recipes, Williamsburg: 1780s, p.15. 343 UP.ms.5034-3, unfoliated, Margaretta Prentis, p.8; MHS,mss.080473, Adams Family Papers, Letter from Abigail Adams to John Adams, 20 October 1799.

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of white wine or Sack let ym lye in ye wine 3 days & nights & more and then Stire ym. then Still ym in an Ordinary still.344

The domestic materia medica was an extraordinarily rich one, and a much wider

range of plants may be found in common use in both Early Modern England and

Colonial America than is indicated in Josselyn’s simple list. For example,

celandine, comfrey, elecampane, rue, rosemary, marigold, plantain, licorice,

and wormwood are all commonly seen across the sources, as are coriander,

nutmeg, clove, ginger, camphor, and frankincense. On the whole, however,

Josseyln’s list is useful in not only demonstrating that old world botanicals were

considered necessary provisions for successful new world navigation, but also

in showing that they needed to be represented by a varied range, including

herbs (wormwood), flowers (rose and clove-gilliflower), fruit (lemon), and hard

spices (nutmeg, mace, cinnamon). Moreover, the inherited old world body of

plants informing Josseyln’s list constituted the backbone of the shared domestic

practice: it is this specific materia medica which was in use on both sides of the

Atlantic, and across the whole of the domestic culture’s span.

Of Opium and Poppies, Papaver spp.

Roy Porter wrote of Early Modern herbal treatments that only two,

Peruvian bark (which is considered in Chapter Six), and the opium poppy were

effective agents.345 Examination of the use of Papaver spp within the domestic

culture establishes that the plant was regularly used, both widely and

effectively, and further, speaks to specific aspects of the culture’s complexities 344 BL.Add.ms.27466, fol.8, Mary Doggett, Her Booke of Receipts, 1604. 345 Roy Porter, Disease, medicine and society in England, (Cambridge University Press: Cambridge, 1995), p.8. See also ‘Jesuit’s Bark, Cinchona spp.’, p. 315.

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and detail. Poppy was used within both Early Modern English and Colonial

American households across the whole of the time period under examination

here. Poppy ‘water’ recipes, for example, are found in the majority of receipt

books, including the English sources authored by Mary Dogget (1604), Jane

Dawson (written c.1650-1699), Elizabeth Hirst (1684-c.1725), and Mary

Faussett’s receipts in the Heppington receipt book from eighteenth- and early–

nineteenth-century England, as well as in Colonial writings such as Margaretta

Prentis’ or Martha Washington’s Virginian manuscripts of the 1780s.346 Further,

domestic authors employed poppies in a wide range of products, including pills,

cakes, rolls, and a range of liquid preparations, all aimed at a wealth of

ailments.347 The most common of these, however, were poppy waters (the chief

of which was laudanum), and syrups.

While the modern reader may well differentiate between poppy

species, for example, Roy Porter specifically talks of ‘opium poppy’ as a medical

agent, this distinction was not always important to the Early Modern and

Colonial imagination or understanding.348 Both ‘learned’ and domestic authors

were capable, and often did, differentiate between species, but their practice

allowed for a nuanced employment of various poppies. Equally, the means by

which they distinguished types of Papaver differ from current practice. In his

346 WL.ms.7999, Vol.3, unfoliated, Heppington Receipts; UP.ms.5034, vol.3, fols.14,32, Margaretta Prentis’ Cookery & Medical Recipes , Williamsburg, 1780s; BL.ms.27466, fol.2, Mary Dogget’s Receipt Book, 1604; FSL.ms.L:B14, Jane Dawson’s cookery book; WL.ms.2840, fol.31r, Mrs Elizabeth Hirst (& others), Household Book, 1684; NRO.ms. V.33, fol.66, Lady Grace Mildmay, Medical Papers; BL.Add.ms.27466, Mary Doggett, Her Booke of Receipts, 1604; HSP.ms. (Phi)Am.530.3.a, Washington Family Papers, Martha Washington, Her Booke of Sweetmeats. 347 The Moravian Community of North Carolina, for example, typically kept and utilized opiate resin which had been ‘worked and pounded on a board with a little water, and then … shaped into cakes or rolls for sale’. Adelaide L. Fries, ed. Records of the Moravians in North Carolina. Vols.1-6, Raleigh: North Carolina Division of Archives and History, 1970. 348 Roy Porter, Disease, medicine and society in England, Op.cit., p.8.

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Herbal of 1525, Richard Banckes differentiated between species of poppy, also

noting variability in their action:

Papaver This is called poppy. It is cold and dry. There is two manners of them. The white poppy is cold and moist, and it is good to cause one to sleep. The seed thereof well gathered may be kept ten year. It hath virtue of cleansing. It is put in medicines with a determination as [whether] the seed may be received from white poppy or black. For to provoke a sleep, make a plaster of each of them or one of them with woman’s milk and the white of an egg and lay it to the temples. The women of Salerno gave to young children the poppy, but they would give them no black poppy, for it made them too much heavy [sluggish]. Also, for a hot apostume in the beginning, and for chafing of the liver, take the seed of white poppy, or else the herb of it, and stamp it and meddle it with oil of roses and plaster it to the grievance. Also, for dryness in fever hectic and in other fevers, take and heat oil of violet meddled with powder of poppy seed, and anoint the small of the back therewith.349

Both the ‘white poppy’ and the ‘black poppy’ referred to here belong to the

Papaver somniferum, or opium poppy, family (var. album is the white, and

var.nigrum the black). As indicated by its species name, somniferum, the opium

poppy is indeed good to ‘provoke a sleep’. This is mainly due to the alkaloid

content, particularly morphine, though narcotine also has narcotic properties.

Codeine is both a powerful analgesic, and a smooth muscle relaxant (hence its

use as, for example, an effective cough suppressant). It is interesting that

Banckes differentiated between the two, particularly in his posology, or

prescribing etiquette, for children. And this differentiation based on colour is not

unique to him. J.B.’s earlier An English Expositor of 1621 has no entry for either

‘poppy’ or ‘laudanum’, but defines ‘opium’ as:

The iuice of black Poppie, sold dry by Apo|thecaries. It is sometime vsed in Physicke to make one sleepe, or to asswage excessiue paine; but then it must bee mixed with o|ther things

349 Richard Banckes, HERE BEGINNETH A NEW MATTER WHICH SHOWETH & TREATETH OF THE VIRTUES AND PROPERTIES OF HERBS WHICH IS CALLED An Herbal. London, 1525. Banckes’ was the earliest printed herbal in the English language, Gerard’s Herbal appearing in 1597, and Culpeper’s in 1653.

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discretion; for taken alone it will cast one into a deadly sleepe; beeing cold and dry in the fourth degree.350

Similarly, both ‘black’ and ‘white’ poppies are specified in the Heppington

manuscript receipt for ‘Surup of diacodiam’, written in England of the late

eighteenth and early ninetieth centuries.351

Anne Glydd’s seventeenth-century ‘medcin for a cough’ on the other

hand, employs ‘diacodiam’ without specifying the type of poppy used,

suggesting either an assumption of competency and familiarity on the part of

the reader such that Glydd felt it unnecessary to set out the exact poppy to be

used, or that she was not aware of, or did not personally recognize, a

substantial difference between species:

Take an ounce of conserve of roses and a spoonful of or ½ ounce surup of diacodium mixed with the conserve and let the party take it goeing to bed approve diascordium likewise is very good to mix with conserve of roses and I have found good efect of it.352

Lady Grace Mildmay’s earlier use of poppy specifies the type of plant to use,

but clearly conflates the actions of the opium poppy with that of the English

garden variety in her cordial electuary designed to ‘comfort the brain’ of a

‘sucking child’ which contained ‘syrup of red field poppy and cowslips couched

within a ‘conserve of black pear plums, of each a spoonful’.353 The inclusion of

plums is of particular interest in this remedy as plums, particularly when

prepared according to Mildmay’s instructions, act as a reasonably strong

laxative, counteracting the opiate’s constipating effects. While the opiates

350 B., J., Doctor of Physicke. AN ENGLISH EXPOSITOR: TEACHING THE INTERpretation of the hardest words vsed in our Language. WITH SVNDRY EXPLICATIONS, Descriptions, and Discourses, LONDON Printed by IOHN LEGATT, (London: 1621). 351 WL.ms.7999, Vol.3, unfoliated, Heppington Receipts. 352 BL.ms.45196, fol.52r, Anne Glydd’s receipt book,1656. 353

‘Pear plums’ probably refers to a variety of damsons, or Prunus domestica ssp.

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found in Papaver somniferens slow intestinal movement, the red field poppy, or

Papaver rhoeas, contains no opiates, and has a mildly soothing, rather than

mortifying, action on the gut, therefore the inclusion of plums which would have

served to help to keep the child’s bowels open in a laudanum receipt, is here

superfluous. Including a plum conserve in the administration of laudanum to

children would be sensible, and a reasonable botanical prescriptive, it makes

less sense in a remedy based on the much milder field poppies, but it is through

this retention of plums that we read aspects of the original, older, common

recipe within the household practice. Mildmay also suggests that nurse and

child be ministered ‘5 spoonfuls of betony water and 5 of cowslips and 1 syrup

of poppy and 1 of the essence of the balm’. The addition of these further

botanicals to the poppy preparation would have served to enhance the action of

the weaker field poppy: Cowslip (Primula veris), betony (Pedicularis spp.) and

balm (Melissa officinalis), all have mildly sedative properties capable of

‘comforting the brain’.354 In Mildmay’s use of poppy we see adaptation of an

original, common, recipe with vestiges of the original still extant, where the

addition of new material which compensated for any loss of potency attained by

replacing the expensive exotic opium poppy with the common garden variety.

Mildmay is here differentiating between poppy species in her practice, if not in

her apprehension and writing.

354 NRO.ms. W/A misc.vol.32-33, 35. Lady Grace Mildmay, Medical Papers, vol..32, fols.15v – 16r, ‘Another approved course by Mr Waters upon a sucking child’ as cited in Pollock’s With Faith in Physick, pp 115. The traditional use of cowslip, betony, and balm as ‘nervines’ (botanicals which act as ‘restoratives’ specific to the nervous system) is found throughout Europe, and within both classical and medieval texts. Further, Thomas Bartram (Encyclopaedia of Herbal Medicine, 1998) notes the medieval use of balm (Melissa off.) for ‘giving heart’.

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Examples of poppy-based botanicals may be found across the

geographical and chronological, as well as professional and domestic, Early

Modern and Colonial divides.355 For example, Mary Glover’s English receipt

book of 1688 contains three recipes for a ‘Surfit Water’ containing poppy in one

form or another. In one she instructs the householder to ‘take of Goat’s Rue 2

handfulls ½ of water germander 2 handfulls of Red Poppy leaves a handfully &

½ of Angelico root. 3 o… for 6 quarts of brandy’, a second demands ‘corn

poppy clean pick’d’ for her ‘Red Surfet Water’, while the third calls for ‘half a pint

of red poppie water’ as the base on which to build a more complex mixture. 356

The recipe for poppy water itself comes later in the manuscript, and consists of

a number of hard spices and herbaceous plants, including poppy, steeped in a

menstruum of aqua vita, Damask rose water, and sugar candy.357 Likewise,

Martha Washington’s Booke of Sweetmeats contains a receipt for a ‘surfeit

water of poppies’ based on field poppies (she specifies those ‘that grow in

wheat’), with the petals ‘pickt very well from ye blacks & seeds’ bottled in

‘aquavity or brandy’ – to which is added nutmegs, raysons [sic], and later ‘sliced

licorish & a few bruised anny seeds’.358 Alongside the poppy ‘waters’ containing

a variety of Papaver species, colonial domestic practitioners are preparing and

administering a range of medicaments, from Harriott Pinckney Horry’s 1770

355 The term ‘waters’ typically relates to a liquid based menstruum where alcohol acts as both solvent and as the preservative; hence brandy, ale, or wine all commonly appear in receipts. 356 BL.ms.57944, fols.12, 32, 59, Mary Glover, Her Receipt Book, 1688. 357 IBID, fols.10r,108. Interestingly, Glover uses Black Cherry as an almost direct substitute for poppies in recipes relating to ‘female complaints’, including ‘An Hysterical Julip’, pdf.63, and ‘A water for the fitts of the Mother’, fol.110, which speaks to her appreciation of the smooth muscle relaxant properties of each. 358 Karen Hess, Martha Washington’s Booke of Cookery and Booke of Sweatmeats, pp.S287, 416-17. Surfeit waters are carminative in action. This particular recipe’s addition of liquorice & aniseed would have supplemented the smooth muscle relaxant effects of the poppy.

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laudanum receipt through to her kinswoman, Eliza Pinckney’s, 1756 recipe for

liquid ‘cough drops’.359

Domestic authors recommended poppy-based medicines for griping,

coughs, insomnia, and pain, in each instance with detailed instructions for

dosage and administration. Despite the high degree of flexibility and adaptation

in domestic prescribing of poppy, regularity and continuity of practice may also

be seen. Secondary to its use as an analgesic, laudanum (and indeed poppy-

based botanicals more generally), was commonly employed to pacify infants,

either as anti-colic agents, or as soporifics. Indeed, Mildmay’s remedy

advocating the administration of poppy specifically to suckling infants was

reflective of commonplace practice in this respect. Constance Hall’s English

receipt of 1672 ‘‘to cause Sleepe in a weake Person’ instructed the reader to

‘take white Popsy seeds And sow them in to litell bags either tifaney or lanel

and put them in a litell aniseed water and at night a plye them to each tempell

… warm it before you A ploy it to the place’.360 Meanwhile, F.Head Egerton,

also writing in seventeenth-century England, recommended the use of

laudanum both for his post-parturient wife, and for their infants’ sleep:

To Ease pain, & cause sleep, p[re]scribed to my wife, when she lay in Cowslip flowers an handfull, of anise-seeds & juniper berries a little bruised & licourish of each 20. graynes (or 30.) boyle these in Milke (in 6.ounces of milke) with small beere make it a posset, strayne it, take 3 ounces & an half of it, and colour it a little with a grayne or two of dried Saffron, adding thereunto half an ounce or 5. drachmes of the syrrup of white poppie.

and again,

359 SCHS.ms.43/2178, Eliza Lucas Pinckney’s Household Book, 1756, (on deposit by the Colonial Dames of America); SCHS. Collections, Harriott Pinckney Horry, Receipt Book (1770). 360 FSL., ms.V.a.20, fol.19r, Constance Hall’s receipt book, 1672.

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For a Griping in a child, & to cause sleep Take one spoonfull of Garden Poppie syrrup, add 3. spoonfulls of Spare-Mint [spearmint] water stilled in a Cold Still, mingle them well, & sweeten it well with Sugar. Give it a spoonfull ever[y] night, the last thing he eats.361

Similarly, Margaretta Prentis’ receipt ‘For the Cholic’ written in Williamsburg of

the 1780s assures us that ‘Fifteen or Twenty drops of Laudanum in a cup of

wine and water … generally gives immediate Ease’, and Catherine Haines’

(also Colonial) receipt for ‘Deborah Morris’s Cholick Drops’ includes substantial

amounts of ‘Liquid Lodanum’ with the advice the ‘If the Cholick Continues

Violent it may be reapeated every hour til Easy –‘.362 This use of opiates for

griping, or colic, (intestinal pain caused by spasm of intestinal smooth muscle),

is entirely rational given the action of codeine in relaxing smooth muscle, and

morphine’s ability to dull any accompanying pain. Not only do we see the

domestic culture engaging in an effective practice by using Papaver for ‘ease’,

but we see a level of sophistication and differentiation here also which is

important. In each instance, the author is specifying the use of the opiate

medicine in a manner entirely commiserate with its physiological action and

patient need.

The use of poppy as a smooth muscle relaxant, rather than simply as

an anodyne, occurred on both sides of the Atlantic across the period. Echoing

361 WL.ms.1071, 9 and ms.1071, 62, Cited in Katherine Knight’s ‘A Precious Medicine: Tradition and Magic in Some Seventeenth-Century Household Remedies’ Folklore, Vol. 113, No. 2 (Oct., 2002), p.242 who writes that the manuscript was probably ‘started some time after 1648’ p. 238. It is in looking back at the analgesic qualities of Papaver spp. however, that the recommendation of poppy for postpartum uterine pain and fever would have been beneficial. In this instance its use might suggest the presence of puerperal infection, a common cause of death in women during the early modern period. And while the opiates would not in any way help to clear the infection, they would have lessoned the pain and suffering associated with it. 362 UP.ms.5034-3, fol.35, Margaretta Prentis’ Cookery & Medical Recipes (Williamsburg: 1780s); APS.ms.coll.52-ead, series III: Wyck Association Collection, Reuben Haines, Box 87: Folder 2, fol.6r, Catharine Haines’ notebook, 1776.

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Eliza Pinckney’s opiate containing ‘dough drops’ from mid-eighteenth-century

Carolina, Prentis’ receipt book contains a recipe ‘For a cough’ using opium

poppy as a base remedy, which recommends rolling out ‘4 Grs Opium’ with

‘1Gr. Tartar Emetic’ into eight pills, one to be taken ‘every night going to bed’.

She also uses laudanum as a single ingredient in a polypharmacy ‘For

disordered Bowels’ along with nutmeg and ipecacuanna with the instruction to

‘make it into as many or as few pills as you please and take it at night goint to

Bed’, and to be ‘continued for a week or ten days’, with the laudanum omitted in

the morning dosage. 363 As a remedial agent this recipe is particularly clever in

its diurnal differentiation: the addition of laudanum at night would not only serve

to ensure sleep, but also counteract the more violent action of the ipecac in

stimulating peristalsis, or griping, of the gut (in light of the opiate action in

slowing smooth muscle contraction, causing constipation). Elsewhere Prentis

writes comfortingly that the use of ‘a grain of opium or thirty five drops of

laudanum … never fails to relieve’.364 Likewise, Harriott Pinckney Horry includes

laudanum in her Carolina receipt for ‘Adam’s Solvent for Stone & Gravel’. While

this remedy, as given, would have had little effect in dissolving mineral deposits,

the ability of the opiates to relax smooth muscle may well have had an impact

on ureter contraction so that, along with easing the pain of passing stones, their

actual passage may have been facilitated – a relaxed tube can expand to

accommodate the passing of stones more easily than a tight, restricted one.365

In both cases, the relaxing of smooth muscle in the first instance would have

363 UV. ms.5035.2, fol.15, Margaretta Prentis’ Williamsburg Cookery and Medical Recipes, 1780s. Prentis’ manuscript includes a third opium-based receipt ‘For the Cholic’ with ‘Fifteen or Twenty drops of Laudanum’ added to a cup of wine and water’, 5035.1, fol.20v. 364 IBID fol.35. 365 SCHS.ms.1086.03.02, Harriott Pinckney Horry’s household book, 1770.

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brought relief from pain, a relief which was then further augmented by the

analgesic actions of the opiates.

Indeed, this ability of opiates to ‘relieve’ the sufferer is noted in a number

of sources. They are particularly popular when employed as stomachics, or

carminatives, particularly in surfeit waters. Hartman’s vernacular recipe

specifies that his cordial

be take after Phisick to comfort and settle the stomach. And to cause rest and sleep’, as well as in ‘another Excellent Cordial to cause Rest and Sleep in a Fever, or when one is oppressed with pain, as also in a Surfeit, or after Phisick.366

In her English household receipt book of 1682, Rose Kendall also uses poppy in

a ‘Surfeit Water’, and Mary Dogget’s receipt of 1604 recommends a ‘simple watr

of poppys yt grows in Corne’ for ‘ym yt can’t disgest their meat one Spoonfulle

or 2’, both remedies predating Margaretta Prentis’ Colonial use of laudanum ‘for

disordered bowels’. 367 This last is a very similar receipt to that of Harriott

Pinckney Horry in her Household Book which likewise uses laudanum ‘For the

Flux’. There is no doubt that when used in quantity, opiate based medicines as

a whole would have stayed bowel evacuation, both preventing excessive loss of

body fluids, and easing intestinal cramps.368

Just as domestic practitioners were primarily prescribing poppy-based

medicines to ease pain and aide sleep, with individual practices aimed at

relieving intestinal or respiratory distress, the majority of domestic preparations

366 George Hartman, Family Physitian, (London, )1682, p.159. 367 FSL.ms.V.a.429 fol.93r, Rose Kendell et al, cookery and medical receipt book. One of the front pages is marked ‘Rose Kendell & Ann Cater there Book’, 1682, while two pages on is written ‘Anna-Maria Wentworth, Her Book, 1725’; BL., ms.A27466, fol.3v, Mary Doggett, Her Booke of Receipts, 1604. 368 SCHS.1086.03.02, Harriot Pinckney Horry, Household Book, 1770.

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were straightforward macerates, even though there are several individual

instances of syrups, lozenges, or cordials. In a typical macerate, the plant

material was placed in a liquid and simply either steeped, boiled, or distilled,

typically in alcohol. For example, the English manuscript of Elizabeth Hirst

contains an ‘Excellent Poppy Water’ which is a relatively simple distilate, with

the poppies steeped in a ‘strong alle’.369 This is virtually identical to a remedy

found in Mary and Anne Granville Dewes’s receipt book, written in seventeenth-

century England, while Mary Dogget’s beautifully scripted work includes three

separate recipes for poppy water, in varying complexity, two of them using aqua

vitae as the solvent, and the third calling for the householder to ‘Distill Poppys

as you do Raisons, and let it drop on white Sugar candy and Some dates and

Nuttmeggs … and so boyle it up for your use’ suggesting a slightly more

complex, combined alcohol and sugar product prepared in two separate

stages.370 Typically, the American recipes tend to follow the simpler, more

common, alcohol menstruum extract, echoing growing differentiation in

menstruums considered in Chapter Four. Eliza Lucas Pickney’s cough remedy,

for example, calls for the infusion of ‘these Ingredients in a quart of double

rectified Spirit of Wine by the fire for ten or twelve days shaking ye Bottle twice

a day’, and Harriet Horry’s laudanum receipt is a fairly straightforward tincture of

opium poppy on its own, using water and a mixture of ‘Brandy and Madeira

Wine’ as the base menstruum.371 For the majority of these authors, the adoption

of the simplest effective remedial preparation possible speaks to both their

369 WL.ms.2840, Mrs. Elizabeth Hirst, (& others), Household Book, 1684-c.1725. 370 UPRB.ms.5034(1-4), Margaretta Prentis’s Cookery & Medical Recipes, Williamsburg: 1780s; FSL.ms.V.a.430, fol8, Mary Granville, and Anne Granville Dewes’s Receipt Book, 1740; BL.Add.ms.27466, fol.3, Mary Doggett, Her Booke of Receipts, 1604. 371 SCHS.ms.43/2178, Eliza Lucas Pinckney’s Household Book, 1756; SCHS.ms.1086.03.02, Harriott Horry Pinckney’s Receipt Book, 1770.

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agency and its practical nature. That American authors seem to be even more

drawn to this ‘simplification’ of remedies and remedy production may be seen to

reflect resource considerations (both in terms of access to resources, and in

terms of their cost) as well as a growing self-reliance as the culture moves into

the eighteenth-century. The possible socio-political implications for this are

considered briefly in Chapter Six, and again in the conclusion.

An earlier, more complex, English example, however, may be found

Elizabeth Freke’s early-eighteenth-century manuscript. While her receipt book

does contain a receipt for a simple water, ‘I quartt of popy water, cold still’, it

also gives instructions to make ‘The Lady Powells’ Laudanum’, sent via her

sister, Judith Austen:

To make lodynum. The Lady Powells receitt sent me by my deer sister Austen in my distress; of which she has taken of itt neer two years her selfe. September 20. Sent i7i2. For the collicke, &c.372

This second of Freke’s poppy based recipes is similar to one found in the

English Heppington manuscripts, also written in the late-eighteenth- century,

with both examples including the ‘blader pricked full of thin holles’ detail:

Take two ounces of the best opium and one ounce of fine saffron. Cutt the opium very thinn and small, and pull the saffron into small peices; then infuse them in a quarte of the best sack in a deep earthen pott covered with a blader pricked full of pin holles.373

It would seem that this particular, more demanding (at least in production terms)

version of laudanum was in circulation within some social circles in England

during the eighteenth-century.

372 BL.Add.ms.45718, fol.129, Elizabeth Freke, miscellany, September 1684 - February 1714. This recipe is also discussed in chapter two. 373 WL.ms.7999, Vol.3, Heppington receipts.

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While the authors clearly differentiate between ‘waters’ and laudanum

by title, however, there is often little difference between the two in terms of

ingredients, preparation, or delivery. Thus Freke’s demanding laudanum from

the early-eighteenth-century England is similar in content to Harriot Horry’s

simple Colonial ‘laudanum’ receipt of the mid-eighteenth-century. Both are

based on simples, containing either poppy alone or with a single other

ingredient (Freke also includes saffron). It is likely that using the term

‘laudanum’ is, for these authors, similar to the citing of elite sources for their

receipts: the remedy itself may differ very little from pre-existing use, but its

name confers authority. By using the medical term, the domestic poppy water

becomes a recognized, and recognizable, medicinal agent. That the

preparation may be said to exist as part of the domestic canon despite the

appropriation of the medical lexicon is reflected in exactly that willingness on the

part of householders to adapt it to their own needs and preferences. Authors

within the domestic culture employed agents that they perceived to be effective;

they then associated these products with known, popular medicaments as a

means of communicating this effectiveness to others. Rather than borrowing a

practice from the learned culture, the domestic culture is employing its own,

distinct practice, but borrowing the terminology (and authority) of the dominant,

learned culture.

Across these recipes however, and regardless of the complexity of

preparation embraced by practitioners, there are common, and popular,

preparations and uses of poppy, as seen, for example, in the number, and use,

of poppy waters; equally there is a willingness on the part of many authors to

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adapt these poppy mixtures particularly in the addition of alcohol or sugar. Next

to waters, syrups were the most commonly produced form of poppy medicine,

with examples ranging from Mildmay’s late-sixteenth-century ‘ syrup of poppy’

through to Mrs Johnston’s 1700 ‘Syrup of red poppies’ and Mary Faussett’s

later (eighteenth- and nineteenth-century) ‘Surup of dicrordiam’ receipt.374 On

the whole, syrups were used for the same ailments as waters, particularly in the

treatment of pain, colic, and sleeplessness. Syrups were, moreover, thought to

be particularly suitable for infants and children. It is possible that the high sugar

content (and subsequent palatability) meant that they were more easily

administered, and hence became more specifically prescribed. Equally, there

are instances where the alcohol-based ‘water’ is mingled with sugar to produce

a secondary syrup, as in the case of Elizabeth Freke’s ‘poppy water’ and

Elizabeth Digby’s use of poppy water as a remedy for ‘Griping in a child’.375

Diversity in household adaptation of the broader domestic practice may

be seen in the relatively wide gulf between the detailed and specific Freke-

Heppington preparation instructions and Katherine Davies’ simple early-

seventeenth-century instructions ‘To Make Liquid laudanum’. Davies instructs

the householder to:

Take 2 ounces of opium an ounce of safforn a dram of cloves and a dram of made slice and pick out ye droos of ye opium and pull ye safforn to thin flakes pound ye spices small put ym into an earthen pan …376

Given the nature of the ingredients and the desired outcome, the increased

complexity of the Freke/ Heppington recipe with its ‘blader pricked’ coverings 374 FSL.ms.W.a.311, unfoliated, Mrs Johnston’s receipt book; WL.ms.7999, Vol.3, Heppington receipts. 375 BL.Eg.ms.G2197, Elizabeth Digby, receipts of Elizabeth Digby, 1650. 376 BL.Eg.ms.2214, fol.19v, Katherine Davies’ receipt book, 1638.

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and extended infusion seems unwarranted. Covering a liquid preparation as it

is heated serves to increase the internal temperature of the mixture, which is

desirable in breaking down particularly dense or fibrous material, or in helping

retain steam-borne water soluble particles (such as volatile oils). The Freke-

Heppington receipt, however, contains neither of these. The poppy material is

not overly robust and therefore requiring the extreme heat, nor does either it or

the saffron contain crucial components which would be theoretically salvaged

by the use of a cover. It seems likely that this later version of the recipe was

more the result of current fashionable exchange than of anecdotal efficacy. This

hypothesis would seem to be supported in the lack of this detail in either

Colonial manuscripts, or in the majority of English receipt books. Indeed, the

vast majority of recipes are simple in terms of ingredients, preparation, and

administration.

Worry over dosage, and indeed, use, of opiates, rarely made its way

into the domestic sources. While concern was being voiced within wider Early

Modern and Colonial society, household prescribing seems to take little notice.

For example, William Douglas, writing in late-eighteenth-century in

Pennsylvania, warns against the excessive administration of opiates in smallpox

cases, noting that ‘I have found some bad consequences from the liberal use of

Opiates in the small Pox, which I may hereafter communicate more at large’.377

Yet at virtually the same time, Prentis is recommending her opiate-based pills

‘for a cough’ be taken ‘every night going to bed’ with no caveat whatsoever.378

377 Colden, Cadwallader, Cadwallader Colden’s Letters and Papers, 1688-1776, as reprinted for the Collections of the New York Historical Society for the year 1917 (New Yor,: 1918), letter to Cadwallader Colden from ‘From William Douglass. Boston. 25*'^ July 1722’, p.145. 378 UP. MS.5034, vol.3, fol.35, Margaretta Prentis, Cookery & Medical Recipes, 1780s.

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Despite the medical profession’s growing anxiety concerning the use of opiates,

poppy based products, including those of the opium poppy, continued to be

included in domestic sources across the period. Moreover, the willingness of

householders to use these botanicals changed very little across the times and

places covered by the thesis. The domestic employment of various poppy

species in recipes remained highly variable, however, as did authors’

willingness to produce a wide range of preparations, and apply these to a range

of ailments.

Of Flowers

Flowers, more than any other botanical considered by the thesis, are

commonly associated with Early Modern England, a popularity which is widely

reflected in the wealth of domestic receipts, both culinary and medicinal.

Moreover, this Anglo-American cultural affinity for flowers, seen in their regular

appearance in popular literature and social discourse as well as in medical

remedies, translated from the imaginative into practical employment within the

home. Indeed, this practical application saw florals used equally in the making

of pastries and in complex household unguents. Moreover, this perception of

flowers as both medicinal and culinary agents may be seen in English and

Colonial domestic sources alike, infusing our awareness of a common British

materia medica with a broader underlying cultural inheritance affecting kitchen

as well as still room.

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Flowers were used as edibles, including as edible medicines, in

domestic sources. For example, Anne Goodenough’s eighteenth-century

English manuscript contains a recipe ‘to Candy Violetts or any other flowers and

keepe them that they will looke as fresh as when they are first gathared’ while

Martha Washington’s contemporary Colonial book has one ‘To Preserve Rose

Buds and Gilleflowers‘.379 Jane Mosley’s seventeenth-century Derbyshire

‘flower salad’ illustrates the Anglo-American affinity for, and use of, flowers:

A sallet of rose buds and clove gilly floweres Picke rose buds, and put them into a earthen pipkin, with white wine vinegar and sugar: so may you use cowslips, violets, or rose-mary flowers.380

Indeed, Mosley had a particular affinity for flowers and flower salads, including

recipes for ‘A sallet of mallowes’ and one ‘To do clove Gilliflowers up for

salleting all the year’.381 Her recipe for ‘rose buds and clove gilly flowereres’, in

particular, is interesting for its format as much as in its content and intended

use. While many of her receipts are written in an open hand, filling the page of

her manuscript from margin to margin, the physical layout of this recipe lends it

a phrasing reminiscent of lyric floral poetry. Mosley is here writing a poem as

much as she is a recipe: she values these flowers as foods, but equally her

poetic presentation of the recipe suggests that she values them equally for their

delicate flavour, their fragility, and their intrinsic beauty. Moreover, each flower

listed in this recipe was regularly employed across Anglo-American domestic

sources as a medicinal agent: rose as a stomachic, clove gillyflowers and

violets for skin conditions, cowslips to promote sleep, and rosemary flowers as

379 FSL.ms.W.a.332, fol.22, Anne Goodenough’ receipt book; HSP.(Phi)Am.530.3.a., Washington Family Papers, Martha Washington, Booke of cookery and booke of sweetmeats, 1749-1799. 380 DR.ms.D770/C/EZ/394, unfoliated, Jane Mosley’s recipe book, c.1669. 381 IBID.

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a stimulant. This conflation of the culinary and medicinal, which has been

considered elsewhere, is particularly apparent in the use of floral botanicals.

Further, mixed perception of culinary and medical use may be seen in

preparations using single flowers, such as Hannah Huthwaite’s eighteenth-

century Colonial remedy ‘For the Cholick’, which calls for the householder to

‘Take the Common Mallow and Boil in Milk’, as well as in multi-flower

combinations such Mary Hooke’s English receipt of 1680 for an edible ‘Pastt of

Marygolds‘ including also ‘your past of violet or cowslips, or any other flower,

excelentt against melancholy’.382

A strong domestic continuity of practice may be seen in violet syrup

recipes taken from receipts across the sources. For example, instances occur

in the seventeenth-century English manuscripts of Jane Dawson, Mary Doggett,

Margaret Baker, and Grace Blome Randolph, as well as the Granvilles’

eighteenth-century book.383 These are further echoed in the two recipes

included in Susanna Pack’s late-seventeenth-century manuscript: ‘Syrop of

Vilots’ and ‘Syrrup of Viollets or Gilliflowers’, Anne Glydd’s work of the same

period, Ann Goodenough’s eighteenth-century receipt ‘To make Sirip of

Violetts’, and a similar version in Katherine Davies’ undated work.384 Variations

on a theme include Anne Brockman’s receipt for ‘An Violett water frood for the

Eyes’ with instructions to ‘Take a handfull of violett leaves, a handfull of Daisy 382 FSL.ms.A.931, pdf.34.b, Mary Hookes’ receipt book, 1680; Win.doc.193, fol.67, Hannah Huthwaite’s recipe book, c.1720. 383 FSL.ms.V.b.14, Jane Dawson’s cookery book, c.1650-1699; BL.ms. A27466, Mary Doggett, Her Booke of Receipts, 1604; BL.ms. S2485, Margaret Baker’s receipt book in two parts containing mainly medical and some culinary receipts, 1650;FSL.ms.V.b.301, Grace (Blome), Randolph, cookery book (‘Randolph receipt book’), 1697; FSL.ms.V.a.430, Mary Granville, and Anne Granville Dewes’ receipt book, 1740. 384 FSL.ms. V.a.215, fol,61,, Susanna Packe, Her Book (of Receipts), 1674; BL.ms.A45196, fol.23, Anne Glydd’s receipt book, 1656-1700; FSL.ms.W.a.332, fol.40, Anne Goodenough’s receipt boo; BL.Eg.ms.2214, fol.22, Katherine Davies’ Medical and cookery Receipts, n.d.

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leaves; Tamp them very small in a wooden dish with a wooden pestell’ before

distilling.385 Violets were used singly, and in combination, primarily as syrups

with an unspecified use, though also in waters ‘for the eyes’, and in combination

with daisies in a water for skin complaints. Domestic authors employed simple

violets, and other flowers, as botanical commodities with a wide cultural tenure

which they then distill down to suit their individual household needs. Indeed,

flower botanicals exemplify the social ‘archeology’ of a domestic practice that

was common across the Atlantic, and recovery of this practice, particularly

looking at the skills with which individuals treated sensitive plant material, and

the wealth of ways in which they intelligently administered this material,

becomes a retrieval of widespread social practices.

Equally, florals provided the base for more complex domestic receipts

which reflect the broader domestic culture. Mary Glover’s English receipt book

of 1688, for example, contains a number of polypharmacy remedies built on

floral material. Her ‘Flower of Oyntment’ remedy, ‘Useful against the stingings

or bitings of any venous beast’, contains a number of floral ingredients, while

her ‘Plague Water’ recipe contains forty three different botanicals arranged

according to ‘type’, including ‘field poppie flower Burrige flower BueGloss

flowers Broome flowers Rosemary flowers Mary Gold flowers, [and] Cowslip

flowers’.386 Similarly, Elizabeth Freke’s ’Clarrett Watter‘ is distilled into a rose

water base with the further addition of spices including cinnamon, cloves,

cardamom and ginger.387 In each of these recipes, and across both time and

385 BL.Add.ms.45197, fols.35, 64, Anne Brockman, medical receipt book. 386 BL.ms.57944, pp.21-29, 14, Mary Glover, Her Receipt Book, 1688. 387 BL. Add.ms.45718, fols.135, 139, Elizabeth Freke, miscellany, 1684.

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geographical space, the florals represent a broader botanical materia medica:

here flowers constitute a distillation of domestic botanical agency and authority.

Moreover, along with the ointments and waters, floral botanicals were

utilized in syrups, julips, poultices, wines, and simple teas. Examples of these

may be seen in Mary Glover’s recipe for ‘Surrop of Gilliflowers’, Ann

Goodenough’s recipes for ‘Cowslip Wine’ (she includes three), KW’s simple

‘Lilly Valy’ water, through to Jane Mosley’s receipt ‘To make cammomil oyl’ and

Harriot Pinckney Horry’s similar Colonial use of a camomile poultice ‘for Sprains

& Strains’.388 These recipes also give a flavour of the range of flowers

employed, to which we may add others, such clove gillyflower. For example, the

Colonial manuscripts of Hannah Huthwaite, Margaretta Prentis, and Martha

Washington all employ clove gillyflowers in remedies.389 In every instance the

use of flowers illustrates cultural continuity of the Early Modern English affinity

for flowers on both sides of the Atlantic, as well as demonstrating the broader,

shared domestic materia medica, and a willingness of individual authors to

appropriate and adapt the botanical culture. The flower most passionately

associated with Early Modern use however, and most commonly used botanical

by both Early Modern English and Colonial American householders, is the rose.

388 BL.ms.57944, fol.168, Mary Glover, Her Receipt Book, 1688; FSL.ms.W.a.332, Ann Goodenough’s cookery book, 1700-1775; WL.ms.1320, fol.152, KW. Receipt Book; DRO.D770/C/EZ/394, Jane Mosley, Op.cit., p.L.; SCHS.ms. 1086.03.02, Harriott Pinckney Horrey, Receipt Book, 1770. 389 Win.Doc.193, Hannah Huthwaite’s Recipe Book (c.1720); SHC.Coll.00011.1, Alexander and Hillhouse Papers, Dorothea Christina Schmidt, Cookery and Medical Receipt Book (1772); HSP.(Phi)Am.530.3.a., Washington Family Papers, Martha Washington, Booke of cookery and booke of sweetmeats, 1749-1799. Washington had a clear fondness for flower based botanicals, including five recipes for violet syrup and rose apiece (along with similar receipts for clove gilleflowers and cowslips)

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Rose, Rosa spp. ‘That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet’...390

Early Modern and Colonial use of roses spanned a wide gamut of

ailments, preparations containing the rose ranged from the simple through to

the highly complex, and examples of the remedies containing rose found in both

English and Colonial American domestic sources speak to its cultural weight.391

The rose is closely associated with Early Modern English lyricism, medicine,

cooking, and even political affinity, and it is examined within the thesis as a

standard example of the broad Anglo-American domestic botanical culture. The

rose epitomizes inherited Early Modern English thinking and practice, it was

highly valued and regularly employed on both sides of the Atlantic, and recipes

containing it reflect the diversity and adaptability of agency and application

between Anglo-American household practices which is characteristic of the

culture as a whole.

Ann Goodenough’s English receipt book of 1775 contains a recipe for a

‘Conserve of Red Roses’, another for ‘Powder of Roses’, two separate recipes

on how ‘To Perfume Roses’, instructions ‘To make suger of Roses’, and two on

how ‘To make Oyle of Roses’.392 Moreover, her receipt for ‘An Oyntment for

any pains of the stomake or paines aboute the Heart of for any great cold or

long Coughe or any swellings’ uses ‘Oyle of Roses’ as one of the base

390 William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, II.ii.1-2. 391 Medicinal aromatic roses such as Rosa damascene and Rosa gallica originated in the Levant, and were first introduced to the British Isles to the Romans. As such, they represent a broader trans-Atlantic botanical culture, as do the hard spices, than indicated by the simple Anglo-American context of the thesis. 392 FSL.ms.W.a., fol.23, 24, 33, 35, Ann Goodenough’s cookery book, 1700-1775.

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ingredients.393 Indeed, across these domestic sources, roses are diversely used

as foodstuffs, household agents, and medicines. They are employed in

conserves, perfumes, ointments, electuaries, and plasters. Clearly the shared

botanical material is viewed reflexively here, with individual practitioners

applying it widely, according to its perceived characteristics. Roses are

aromatic, thus useful in pomanders, powders, and perfumes; their action in

soothing, thus suitable for use in a range of cooling and calming medical

preparations.

English and American authors were equally likely to employ rose in a

number of manners and for a manner of ailments: Lady Mary Dacres’ English

‘Electuary for a Cough or Cold’ written in 1695 demands ‘4 ounces of ye Oldest

Conserve of Roses’ as a base, while her receipt for ‘An exelent thing to take

away scars or any rednes’ calls for the producer to ‘Take 2 spoonfulls of

Damask Rose watter put to it 2 peniworth of sugar, … wash ye part 5 or 6 times

a day, & shake the glas every time you use it’.394 Also from England, Penelope

Jephson Patrick’s 1674 recipe for a ‘Glyster for an immoderate flux’ required the

reader to ‘Take a quart of new milck, halfe a handful of Red Roses, boyle it well

then devide it into two parts and put in fore ounces of loafe suger, a quartern of

Brandy, give half a pint in a glister if occasion be, give once every 3 houres’.395

Meanwhile, Catherine Haines’ late-eighteenth-century American receipt ‘For a

393 IBID, fol.52. The majority of rose based receipts specify the use of rose flowers, or buds, as in Goodenough’s receipts. There are exceptions to this, however, as in Margaretta Prentis’ use of a ‘tea of rose leaves’ to treat ‘a Sore Mouth’ (UP.ms. MS.5034-34, fol.24, Margaretta Prentis, Cookery & Medical Recipes, Williamsburg: 1780s). Prentis’ use is very similar to typical uses of other rosacea leaves, notably that of the raspberry bush, all of which are high in tannin content, and subsequently have a strong astringent action on mucous membranes. 394 BL.ms.56248, fol.81r, 86v, Lady Mary Dacres’ receipt book, 1695. This recipe uses rose as a simple anti-inflammatory vulnerary with an affinity for epithelial tissues. 395 FSL.ms.V.a.396, fol.95v, Penelope Jephson Patrick’s receipt book, 1674.

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Sore Breast that Seem Incurable’ produced a ‘plaister’ made of honey, bees

wax and fresh rose flowers.396 Authors recommend the use of rose for ailments

of the ‘stomacke’ and heart, as well as to take away ‘scars or any rednes’. On

the surface, the sheer breadth of use advocated by domestic authors in these

remedies is reminiscent of the polychrest prescribing typical of some learned

botanical practices and cultures. In using rose as a simple soothing anti-

inflammatory agent which takes away ‘swellings’ or ‘any rednes’ (inflammation),

rather than as a prescribed curative agent for specific diseases however, these

authors demonstrate an ultimately pragmatic application of the domestic culture.

The application of rose to sores, scars, or the sort of inflammation typical of

intestinal or respiratory infections would have typically provided symptomatic

relief. In applying the botanical agent as a soothing paste, ointment, or syrup to

painful, red, swollen conditions domestic authors have not only taken the

inherited practice and adapted it to specific needs, but they consistently

prescribe in such a way as to suggest that they are utilizing rose’s anti-

inflammatory action based on empirical observation of its effects on patients.

Alongside their flexible approach to the application and administration of

rose-based botanicals, domestic authors’ receipts demonstrate a sophisticated

agency underlying the domestic botanical culture. In particular, this ‘agency’

includes awareness of, and sensitivity to, the delicate nature of flower material

which would have impacted on the preparations’ ultimate chemical makeup, and

indeed, physiological action. Indeed, it is by demonstrating care in preparing

these recipes that domestic authors exhibit their awareness of a correlation

396 APS.ms.coll.52-ead, series III: Wyck Association Collection, Reuben Haines, Box 87: Folder 2, fol.4r, Catharine Haines’ Notebook, 1776.

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between their treatment of the material and its subsequent usefulness. For

example, Mary Glover’s receipt book not only contains detailed instructions on

‘The Best way of preparing roses to Still for oyles or syrups or rose watter’ but

has further recipes for the floral ‘Flower of Oyntment’ recipe, along with simple

recipes for ‘Syrrup of Damask Rose’ and ‘Conserve of Roses’, each with

differing preparation instructions relevant to the delicacy of the roses, as well as

to the effectiveness of the base menstruum used to prepare and preserve it.397

(Rose also features in her recipe for a ‘Surfitt Water’, and as one of a number of

botanicals in her ‘Jury of herbs for the byting of a mad Dogg’).398 Similarly,

Susanna Packe’s text provides instructions on the production of ‘Conserve of

Roses’, ‘Sugar of Rose’, and an ‘Oyle of Roses, ‘proved’, the last of which

largely mirrors those found in the Goodenough and Glover manuscripts.399

Rose oil (whether this be the volatile oil produced by distillation or a simple

macerate of fresh petals in a vegetable oil), is further used in a number of

domestic receipts. Katherine Davies’ ‘excellent Medisine’ recommends its use

to ‘heale Old Rotten & incurable wounds very speedily – probat’ , advising the

householder to take

the oyle of Roses 2 ozs: ofe viniger halfe an oz. …mixe them together & anoint it when all the rotten & putrified flesh is eaten out, anoint toe Sore with butter & ye shall see a Marvilous effert about. Dr. HMckley.400

Ann Goodenough includes a recipe for ‘A Oyntment for any pains of the

Stomake or paines aboute the Heart of for any great cold or long Cough or any

swellings – The Countess of Rochesters Receite’ which uses ‘the best Sallett

Oyle or Oyle of Roses’ as a base. A range of rose based botanicals, including 397 BL.ms.57944, fols.19, 85, Mary Glover, Her Receipt Book, 1688. 398 IBID,fols.155, 32, 157. 399 FSL.ms.V.a.215, Susanna Packe, Her Book (of Receipts), 1674. 400 BL.Eg.ms.2214, fol.74r, Katherine Davies’ medical and cookery receipts, 1680-c.1701.

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oils and ointments are found in Colonial sources. Martha Washington’s work,

for example, contains recipes for oil of rose, rose water, several syrups, rose

vinegar, and candied rose, conserved rose, and cakes made from roses.401 In

each instance, the demands of both the raw material, the nature of the holding

menstruum, and awareness of the desired end product determine a range of

preparation instructions, with each preparation illustrating different skills, and

each speaking to experience on the part of the producer.

Indeed, the production of rose water alone illustrates a high degree of

domestic agency. Rose water, or roses as a component of waters, was an

enduring botanical preparation associated with Early Modern England. Lady

Ann Blencowe begins her receipt for a ‘Sweet Water’ with the instructions to

‘Take a gallon of fair running water, one handful of red rose leves’, and Rose

Kendall employs rose water as the base to her polypharmacy compound ‘Angell

Water’.402 A rather quirky version of rose water may be seen in Mary Doggett’s

receipt book, ‘To Dye Rose Water Rose Color’:

Take a glass of rose water, and put rose Leaves yt quantity of a handful in it, and sett ye glass into ye Still & so distill it till you see the Leaves white then take ym out and put in more fresh Leaves, till your color like you, but be carefull of Dying your water too Deep.403

Like Washington’s Colonial manuscript, Doggett’s writing includes roses

frequently, in a number of forms. A typical example is her ‘Electory to comfort

401 Karen Hess, Martha Washington’s Booke of Cookery and Booke of Sweatmeats, pp. S305, 426, 10, 267, 309, S227-230, 367-68, C160, 168, S81, 278, S80, 278, S138, 307. 402 MHL., Walderton, West Sussex, Lady Anne Blencowe, The Receipt Book of Ann Blencowe, 1694; FSL.ms.V.a.429, fol.79r, Rose Kendell et all, cookery and medical receipt book,1682 403 BL.Add.ms.27466, fol.11r, Mary Doggett, Her Booke of Receipts, 1604. This recipe may be read in context of Doggett’s use of Rose water to dye other waters and syrups ‘green’, discussed in chapter four.

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ye stomack’ based on a distillate of ‘old Red roses’.404 While Rose Kendall’s

‘Electuary for a Cough in the Lungs’ is built around a ‘Conserve of Redd Roses’

base, and Elizabeth Fowler uses rose water as the liquid portion of her receipt

‘To mak Lossongengers’.405 The Eyton manuscript contains a recipe ‘To make

Consarves of Roses’ as well as one for Rose Syrup.406 Indeed, like waters,

Rose syrup is found across the domestic sources, from Mary Hookes’s English

receipt book of the late seventeenth-century which contains a ‘Syrupp of

damask roses’ recipe, to Mrs Johnston’s 1700 receipt for ‘Syrup of pale

roses’.407 This range of products speaks to the ability of authors to apply a

varied set of skills in producing a range of end products from a single, simple

raw source. Moreover, it speaks to an underlying wealth of domestic

knowledge and experience in treating that source: the rose is a plant with a rich

historical tradition as a household medicine, one which was valued in a

multitude of guises, and applied to a multitude of ailments, each perceived to be

distinct, and of value to the prevailing culture.

The perceived value of rose as an old world staple common to both

Early Modern English and Colonial American domestic medicines is apparent in

the range and of recipes found across sources. Equally clear is its perceived

use as a medicinal, alongside its cultural value as a decorative and aromatic

garden plant. This is important because it both highlights the knowledge of

404 IBID, fol.34v. 405 FSL.ms.V.a.429, fol.82r, Rose Kendall et al, cookery and medical receipt book, 1682; FSL.ms.V.a.468, fol.84v, Elizabeth Fowler Her Book, (cookery book also containing medical receipts, sermons, a hymn and a poem), 1684. 406 FSL.ms.V.a.215, fols.141,143,149, Susanna Packe, Her Book (of Receipts), 1674. WL.ms.2323, fol.87r, Amy and Mary Eyton, Receipts, 1691-1738. 407 FSL.ms.V.a.931, pdf.p.31, Mary Hookes’ cookery book, c.1675-1725. FSL.ms. W.a.311, fol.22r, Mrs Johnston’s cookery book, c.1700.

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practical implementation which householders wielded in their use of rose,

particularly in regards to their dealings with the delicate floral material. Just as

importantly, it speaks to the continuity of that practice. Indeed, the widespread

use of rose across domestic households illustrates not only the importation of

English plants to the Americas, but also the cultural and social associations as

well as the practices and agency tied to it. Domestic authors’ ability to produce

rose distillates and floral waters, as well as further adapting these in the

production of ointments, vinegars, and lozenges, and their application of these

products to a breadth of ailments, all speak of a well-established, sophisticated

domestic body of knowledge and practice concerning this plant, and plant

material, in particular. Ultimately, it speaks to both the breadth of the culture’s

knowledge base, and to the great detail and specificity of its implementation.

Of Spices Aromaticall. Sweete of sauour: smelling like spice.408

Orleans: He's of the colour of the nutmeg. Dauphin: And of the heat of the ginger.409

As was the case of flowers generally, and the rose in particular, spices

were culturally popular objects with a well-established role in the domestic

canon, whose use was regularly adapted by individual domestic authors to meet

their household needs. The common social perception of these botanicals as

cultural objects with easily recognized traits may be seen in Shakespeare’s

description of a horse that is as hot as ginger, as ruddy as nutmeg. Indeed, the

idea of a shared social precept may be further seen in the lack of a distinct

408 J. B., An English Expositor, (LONDON, 1621). 409 William Shakespeare, King Henry V, Act 3, Scene 7.

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definition for spices; the English Expositor of 1621 gives a definition for

‘aromaticall’, but not for ‘spice, though as ‘aromaticall’ is defined as ‘smelling

like spice’, we might infer that a spice is something which ‘smells aromatic’.

Indeed, a trawl through the lexicons of Early Modern English for the term ‘spice’

produces references in seventeen books, of which only four define ‘spice’ itself,

and supports the idea of an assumed familiarity.410 Of these references,

definitions range from a simple ‘provisions’ through an association with dried

fruits, to ‘several sorts of grocery-ware, as cinnamon, cloves, mace, nutmeg,

&c.’.411 The other thirteen works all employ ‘spice’ either as a defining noun, as

in ‘Ginger ( Zinziber ), is a spice well knowne’ (John Cowells’s Interpreter of

1607), or more simply, ‘Cardamomum , a spice’ (Jean de Renou’s A Physical

Dictionary, 1657), or as part of a descriptive phrase as in ‘Aromatize, to

perfume, or Spice‘ (Coles’ An English Dictionary of 1676). The absence of a

definition in the majority of these works suggests that the term was in such

common currency that most authors felt no need to explain it; the variation in

meaning in those texts which do define it, however, suggests that that ‘common’

410 Robert Cawdrey, A Table Alphabetical, (London, 1604); John Cowell,The Interpreter: or Book Containing the Signification of Words,(London, 1607); Randle Cotgrave, A Dictionary of the French and English Tongues, (London, 1611); John Florio, Queen Anna's New World of Words, (London, 1611); John Bullokar, An English Expositor, (London, 1616); Henry Cockeram, English Dictionary, (London, 1623); Thomas Johnson, The Herbal or General History of Plants, (London, 1633); Nicholas Culpeper, The English Physician, (London, 1652); Thomas Blount, Glossographia or a Dictionary, (London, 1656); Jean de Renou, A Physical Dictionary, (London, 1657); Edward Phillips, The New World of English Words, (London, 1658); John Wilkins, An Essay towards a Real Character and a Philosophical Language, 1668; John Worlidge, Systema Agriculturae, (London, 1669); John Ray, A Collection of English Words not Generally Used, (London, 1674); Elisha Coles, An English Dictionary, (London, 1676); B. E., A New Dictionary of the Terms Ancient and Modern of the Canting Crew, (London, 1699); John Kersey the younger, English Dictionary, (London, 1702): Lexicons of Early Modern English, University of Toronto Press, 2012. This search was conducted using the chronological parameters of 1600-1702. 411 ‘Provisions’: John Wilkins, Essay towards a Real Character and a Philosophy of Language (London: 1668); dried fruit references may be found in John Ray’s Collection of English Words (London: 1674,, ‘Raisins, plums, figs and such like fruit’, and Elisha Coles’ English Dictionary (England: 1676), ‘Y. Raisins, Figs, &c.’; ‘Grocery-ware’ and spices are from John Kersey’s English Dictionary (England: 1702).

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definition was widely varied. For the purposes of this work, ‘spice’ is defined

using a modern definition from the Oxford English Dictionary:

one or other of various strongly flavoured or aromatic substances of vegetable origin, obtained from tropical plants, commonly used as condiments or employed for other purposes on account of their fragrance and preservative qualities.412

Physically, these plants are hard, aromatic, often resinous ingredients with a

high proportion of volatile oils which confer ‘fragrance, preservative, and

medicinal qualities’.413 Spices were typically imported from countries east of the

occident, and as such represent a ‘trans-Atlantic’ botanical culture beyond the

Anglo-American remit of the thesis. They were however, commonly, and

continually, used in domestic recipes across the period and geographical

spheres examined here, and played an important, ongoing role in this particular

arena.414

The trans-Atlantic nature of spice cultures specifically, as a subset of

botanical cultures more generally, is illustrated in the nature writings of Nicolas

Monardes of Seville’s 1560s account of spices (translated by John Prampton in

1577). Monardes wrote that:

The philosopher doeth saie, that all Countries doeth not give Plantes and Fruites alike: for one Region yeldeth suche Fruites, Trees, and Plantes, as an other doeth not, we doe see that in

412 OED, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1984.1a). The modern definition is used here as a means of defining the parameters embraced by the thesis in its examination of ‘spices’. 413 Along with recognizing their aromatic qualities, early modern and colonial usage commonly employed spices as stomachics, particularly in laxative remedies. The English Expositor notes this action secondarily in its definition of Senna:

Sena. A little plant grow ing in Italy, and other hot countryes, but the best is brought from Alexandria. It is hot and dry, and the leaues thereof are often boyled in Physicke, to purge the body of melan cholicke grosse humours, and to cleanse the blood: but there must bee Anni seede, Cinamon or Gin ger added to it, for that therwise it will prouoke windinesse, and gripings in the belly. (J.B. An English Expositor, 1622)

414 Even this categorization has its limits: many of the ‘hard spices’, particularly seeds from herbaceous plants, were, and are, grown in temperate European countries, such as the seeds from dill and caraway.

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Creta oely growth the Diptamo, and the Incence onely in the Region of Saba, and the Almaciga onely in Ilande of Chio, and the Sinamom, Cloves, and Peper, and other spices onely in the Ilandes of the Maluca, and many other thynges you have in divers partes of the worlde, whiche was not knowen until our tyme, and the people of old tyme did lacke them.415

As representatives of the ‘old world’ herbal canon, hard spices serve both as

models of botanicals in common medical usage, and as examples of

commodity, with their value relating not only to questions of medical use, but

equally to the question of global business.416 Early Modern European

exploration and expansion was tied to the importation of commodities, including

that of aromatic spices, as attempts to find cheaper, naval, alternatives to the

overland silk route provided the impetus for many of the financial backers to

support broadly trans-Atlantic expeditions, with increasing appreciation in the

economies of spice importation.417 In the 1604 Rates of Marchandizes, for

415 Nicholas Monardes, Historia medicinal de las cosas que se traen de nuestras Indias Occidentales, 1565; English Translation: Joyfull Newcs out of the Newe Found Worlde, written in Spanish by Nicolas Monardes, physician of Seville and Englished by John Frampton, Merchant, Anno 1577. The translator, Frampton, was a Bristol merchant who translated not only Nicholas Monardes, but also Marco Polo and several books on the exploration of the Far East. Creta = Crete; Diptamo = dittany (herbaceous herb rather than a hard spice); Region of Saba = ‘An ancient kingdom in southwestern Arabia, known for its trade in gold and spices; the biblical Sheba ‘ (Merriam-Webster, 1984); Almaciga onely in Ilande of Chio = ‘a tall Philippine timber tree (Agathis alba) yielding a dammar resin’ (Merriam-Webster); Maluca (Portugese translates to ‘crazy’) = possibly the Maluku Islands in the Philapenes?, though this doesn’t compute with the associated spices which were primarily from Sri Lanka and India (Cinnamon), Indonesia, India & Zanzibar, (Clove), and India, (Pepper). 416 Cf. Andrew Dalby, Dangerous Tastes: The Story of Spices (Berkeley: University of California Press. 2000). 417 IBID. Dalby writes that it was ‘precisely this – the exciting discoveries of previously unknown spices and aromatics in the age of the great explorations [which] formed the them of Monardes’ work’, moreover, the ‘all these had been so costly in western Europe, and so essential as flavourings and medicines, that the search for direct access to them had been one of the chief impulses for explorers’, p.15. Cf. Michael Krondi,The Taste of Conquest: The Rise and Fall of the Three Great Cities of Spice (New York: Ballantine Books. 2008).Krondl’s Taste of Conquest includes an interesting muse on the early modern European ‘need for spice’ and subsequent historiography, arguing that the focus of the preserving qualities or spices as the primary rationale for their value to Europeans is erroneous, pp.5-11, with a brief consideration of political and economic motivations pp.22-23. Krondl’s desire to greatly extend the range of spice usage and cultural import is echoed by Jack Turner who that ‘insofar as I have a thesis, it is that spices played a more important part in people’s lives, and a more conspicuous and varied one, than we might be inclined to assume’ Jack Turner, Spice: The History of a Temptation (New York:Vintage, 2005), p.xviii.

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example, we see that importation rates for ‘spices and Drugges of all sortes’ are

simply listed ‘as in England’, but by 1774, cinnamon alone is referred to six

times, with entries ranging from the general ‘Additional Duty on Spices’:

CINNAMON For every hundred pounds value FOR ALL CLOVES thereof, according to the several MACE values … And NUTMEG to the specific:

Grocery: l. s. d. Cinnamon, the pound. 0 6 8 Cloves, the pound. 0 10 0 Ginger (East-Indies), the pound, 0 3 0 Ginger (West-Indies), the pound, 0 1 4.418

The increase in reference, alongside the increased specificity of rates suggests

that spices are well established as economic commodities within prevailing

trans-Atlantic currencies. That they were more widely perceived as valuable

commodities worthy of import by popular culture is well illustrated by the

opening lines of Marlowe’s The Jew of Malta:

This is the ware wherein consists my wealth: And thus me thinkes should men of judgement frame Their meanes of traffique from the vulgar trade, And as their wealth increaseth, so inclose Infinite riches in a little roome. But now how stands the wind? Into what corner peeres my Halcions bill? Ha, to the East? yes: See how stands the Vanes? East and by-South: why then I hope my ships I sent for Egypt and the bordering Iles Are gotten up by Nilus winding bankes: Mine Argosie from Alexandria,

418 England and Wales. Sovereign (1603-1625: James I), The rates of marchandizes as they are set downe in the Booke of rates for the custome and subsidie of poundage, and for the custome and subsidie of cloathes, the same being appointed by his Maiestie, and confirmed by the Lorde deputye and Councell, and ordered to be published in print, for the direction of such as it may concerne in this kingdome of Ireland, (Dublin, 1608), p.3; Edward Burrow, A new and compleat book of rates; comprehending the rates of merchandize as settled by the Acts of 12 CAR. II. Cap.4. II GEO. I. cap. 7. and subsequent Acts of Parliament; and, shewing The DUTIES AND DRAWBACKS Payable upon all Goods imported, exported, or carried coastwise; … (England: 1774); pp.45,64, 67, 184, 286, 294, references cited here pp.64, 286.

0l.1s.0d.

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Loaden with Spice and Silkes, now under saile, Are smoothly gliding downe by Candie shoare To Malta, through our Mediterranean sea.419

While their inclusion in the Rates of Merchandizes speaks to the economic

history of spices and spice importation, Marlow’s play shows spices from the

East (‘and by-South’), as desirable commodities within a much wider, popular

culture.

As culturally weighted items, spices in Early Modern England and

Colonial America were perceived equally as signifiers with mythical qualities

and as hard commodities and medicinal agents. Further to Shakespeare’s

appropriation of botanical imagery in his use of spices as indicators of

character, the Early Modern lexicographer, J.B., associated spices with the

mythical and fantastic, noting that the ‘Phenix. The rarest Bird in the world ...

buildeth him a nest of Cinnamon and the twigs of Frankincence, which he filleth

with spices’. Equally, Early Modern writers were clearly attempting to place

spices within the context of the natural world, as seen in John Cowell’s Book

Containing the Signification of Words:

Cloues ( caryophylli ) are a spice knowne by sight to euery man. They be flowers of a tree called ( caryophyllus ) gathered and hardened by the Sunne. Of their nature you may reade in Gerards Herball. lib. 3. cap. 144. This is comprised among such spices ... Ginger ( Zinziber ) is a spice well knowne, being the roote of a plant that groweth in hot countries, as Spaine, Barbary, &c. The true forme whereof you haue expressed in Gerards herball. li. 1. ca. 38. This is a spice whose roote is to be used Graines ( grana paradisi, aliâs Cardamomum ) is a spice medicinable and wholesome, whereof you may see diuers kindes in G erards herball, l. 3. ca. 148. These are comprised

419 Christopher Marlowe, The Jew of Malta, Act One, Scene One.

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among merchandise ... Nutmegs ( nux myristica vel nux muscata ) is a spice well knowne to all. It groweth of a tree like a peach tree, and is inclosed in two huskes, whereof theinner huske is that spice which we call mace. Of this who will, may reade more in Gerards herball, lib. 3. ca. 145. It is mentioned among spices that are to be used ... anno 1. Iaco. ca. 19. 420

In each of these descriptions, Cowell is placing the botanical both within the

physical world, by describing the plant, as in ‘being the roote of a plant that

groweth in hot countries’, or ‘it growth of a tree like a peach tree’, as well as

within a broader learned context of medical thinking and writing by referring

back to Gerard.421 In each of these definitions the plants are defined as a

‘spice’, and associated with heat, the sun, and hot countries. This popular

perception of the plants would have undoubtedly fed into the domestic culture,

impacting on household perception, not only of the plant in question, but of

medicines produced from it.

Certainly many remedies in domestic employ contained a range of exotic

hard spices. These spices were typically used in combination and applied to a

variety of ailments, again accessing the shared, common materia medica, and

illustrating commonality of practice. Cinnamon, clove, ginger, and nutmeg all

appear frequently in various combinations, along with other spices (galangal,

turmeric, mace, pepper, amongst others). Spices were often employed as

adjunct botanicals, improving the delivery of the medicine as a whole, as well as

420 J. B., An English Expositor, (London, 1621); John Cowell, The Interpreter: or Book. Containing the Signification of Words, (London:1607). 421 Cowell is often incorrect in his descriptions, for example, there are indigenous gingers from both Asia and the America, but none from ‘hot countries, as Spaine, Barbary, &c.’. His attempt to place the botanicals within its physical setting is significant, however.

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proving primary agents in their own right.422 Typical examples of this may be

seen in the late-seventeenth and early-eighteenth-century English recipes of

Ann Goodenough, Amy and Mary Eyton, and Mary Chantrell,. Goodenough’s

receipt for ‘The Gout Water’ includes ‘Nutmegs Ginger Mace Cinamon … white

Peper … Gallingall … Ginger … Cubebs … Cardimum … [and] Olibanum’ along

with a plethora of herbaceous botanicals, fruits, honey, sugar, and alcohol.423

Similarly, Amy & Mary Eyton English ‘Receipt for the Rickets’ combines soft

herbs with spices, including hartshorn, licorice, fennel, carroway, coriander, and

cardamom, while Mary Chantrell’s receipt book calls for ‘mace … annyseeds …

Carroway Seeds … Colliander Seeds & a Spring of wormwood’ in ‘A Drinke for

ye windy goute’. This greater British prescribing and production revolving

around spices may also be seen in American recipes. For example, Hannah

Huthwaite’s late-eighteenth-century Colonial recipe for ‘Horse Balls’ calls for:

Anniseeds Gallingall Ledoary Liquorish Elicampain Turmerick Great Cardamums of each four ounces. Syurrup Coltsfoot Syrrup Maiden hair Syrrup Whorehound Syrrup Lemons of each 2 oz Chymicall oyle of anniseeds 1 ½ oz, made up into Balls with half a pint of white wine, 2 oz Spanish juice if too thin thicken it with Liquirice powder – 1 oz ½ or 3 oz ffor a Dose every Morning.424

These domestic authors have regular recourse to a similar range of botanical

materials, including typical hard spices such as aniseed, gallingal, and

cardamom, irrespective of their chronological or geographical placing, again

illustrating the shared practice. Furthermore, both the range of spices employed

in the recipes, and the breadth of ailments individually addressed by different

422 The ‘adjunct’ use of spices is beautifully illustrated by Jane Buckhurst’s elderberry wine receipt in her English manuscript of 1653, which ends with the advice to ‘put surrop of gilliflowers wich will be much better 2 and a fue cloves in it’: FSL.ms.V.a.7, pdf.6b, Jane Buckhurst’s medical receipt book, 1653. 423 FSL.ms.W.a.332, fol.54, Ann Goodenough’s cookery book, 1700-1775. 424 Win.Doc.193, Hannah Huthwaite’s recipe book , Philadelphia, c.1720. Ledoary = zedoary, Curcuma zedoaria.

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household authors, from rickets and gout to hoarseness of voice, again speaks

to the common domestic culture traversing both period and place.

Alongside the relatively complex formulae typical of domestic spice use

may be found of spices employed as simple botanicals, though this is

particularly true of late-eighteenth-century Colonial practice where a divergence

in old world plant use and application occurred. For example, Margaretta

Prentis’ Virginian receipt book of the 1780s combines ginger as the only

botanical ingredient alongside ‘Brimstone … and burnt allum’ in a receipt ‘For a

Fetre’. Catherine Haines’ Philadelphia notebook of 1776 combines three hard

spices in the treatment of ‘a Cold in the Bowels’, instructing the householder to

‘take an ounce of Carrow Seed 2 dram of cloves & 2 dram of Sinament

bruised’.425 Each of these recipes varies from the inherited English practice of

combining multiple hard spices, while retaining the essential botanical

ingredients themselves. Both English and American sources are drawing from

the same shared canon in employing exotic spices, and recipes across the

domestic sources show authors’ willingness and ability to adapt this shared

materia medica, but later Colonial sources express this flexibility and mutability

in new ways, preparing simpler remedies, often using ingredients to hand rather

than those typically employed in the old world practice. This eighteenth-century

Colonial adaptation both serves to illustrate the flexibility of the common

domestic culture, and hints at the beginnings of a new, American, practice

which is further considered in Chapter Six.

425 UP.ms.5034(1-4), unfoliated, Margaretta Prentis’ Cookery & Medical Recipes (Williamsburg: 1780s), p.27; APS.ms.coll.52-ead, series III: Wyck Association Collection, Reuben Haines, Box 87: Folder 2, fol.1v, Catharine Haine’s Notebook, 1776.

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Cinnamon Cinnamomum tamala, et species.

The use of spices as botanical agents across the Anglo-American

domestic practice, whether in a culinary or a medicinal context, is nowhere

more clearly illustrated than in the case of cinnamon. Employed in cakes,

preserves, syrups, medicinal waters, and clysters, cinnamon is a typical

example of the cross culinary/ medicinal hard plant material imported from ‘the

orient’ for Early Modern English and Colonial American use. Yet it is also no

more, or no less, prevalent or prized than its compatriot spices: clove, ginger,

coriander, and cardamom. Indeed, in looking more closely at cinnamon as a

cultural commodity (rather than as a medicine, as we see below), we can see

that it is largely representative of the genre of ‘spice botanical’.

John Cowell’s English printed text, the Interpreter of 1607, describes

Cinnamon as

a tree, whereof the barke is knowne to be a pleasant, comfortable, and medicinall spice, which you haue described in Gerards Herball. Lib. 3 cap. 142. This is reckoned among garbleable spices, an. 1. Iac. Cap. 19.426

Cinnamon’s specific value as an aromatic medicine, reflecting the use of the oil

in particular, is further evident in domestic sources such as Katherine Davies’

early-seventeenth-century English recipe for an ‘Oyle of Synamon’.427 Equally,

an association of cinnamon its ability to warm and comfort is further seen in the

definition for ‘diacinnamon’ in An English Expositor, describing ‘A physicall

mixture of cinnamom and diuerse spices in powder together, which helpeth

426 John Cowell, The Interpreter: or Book Containing the Signification of Words, (London, 1607). 427 BL.Eg.ms.2214, fol.126r, Katherine Davies’ Receipt Book, 1638. Davies’ and Hannah Huthwaites’ cinnamon and aniseed oils (respectively) are further considered in the conclusion.

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digestion and is good a|gainst colde moist diseases of the stomacke’.428 As a

popular cultural entity, cinnamon reflects Anglo-American appropriation of a

quasi-theoretical symbolic nature, whereby cinnamon’s aromatic flavour is tied

to its heating qualities, making it a ‘hot and dry’ aromatic agent, capable of

burning of ‘colde moist diseases of the stomacke’. 429

Chief amongst its uses was cinnamon’s employment in medicinal waters,

both as a simple, and as a key ingredient in aqueous polypharmaceuticals.

Indeed, in his Family Physitian of 1682, George Hartman includes a recipe for

‘A Cordial Water, or Spirit of Cinamon’ which demands of the householder to

‘Take chosen Cinamon bruised, one pound, Aqua Vitae, three pints; the best

Rose-waeter, two pints; let them digest a day or two close stopped; then distil it

in an Alembick’. Following on from his lengthy instructions, Hartman describes

the value and use of this remedy:

The spirituous Water of Cinamon, is good speedi|ly to comfort and fortifie all the noble parts, and principally the Heart: for which reason it is gi|ven with great success in swooning and faming Fits. It comforts and strengthens the Stomach, excites natural heat thereof, helpeth Digestion, stays Loosness, expels Wind, and eases Chollicks which are caused thereby. It is much recommended to strengthen Women in Labour, to facilitate the Birth, and case their pains. It is also very good to provoke the Terms, and to exhail the vapors that rise in the Matrix. It is given alone of the first runnings mixt together, from half a spoonful to a spoonful when there is any necessity; but when you take it often, it is better to keep to the lesser Dose.430

Lady Grace Mildmay’s earlier domestic receipt for an ‘excellent cordial’ similarly

combined hard and soft botanicals.431 Each of these recipes contained

428 J. B., An English Expositor, Op.cit. 429 Gerard, Herball, (London, 1633). 430 George Hartman, Family Physitian, (London,1682). 431 NRO.W/A coll.,misc., vols. 33, fols.25-7, Lady Mildmay’s medical papers. The domestic version contained sage, balm (Melissa officinalis), rosemary, marjoram, mint, pennyroyal, calamint, elderflowers, red rose leaves, sticados, camedreos, camapiteos, cloves, nutmeg,

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cinnamon (amongst other spices and soft herbs) and demonstrated two key

characteristics of domestic practice: both drew from a common materia medica,

and both assumed a degree of agency in readers’ ownership of, and familiarity

in using, distilling equipment. Moreover, each recipe implies a sophistication of

domestic knowledge and skill as hard and soft botanicals required differentiated

treatment in terms of timing and exposure to both heat and solvents. The

omission of detailed instructions regarding the precise preparation of individual

botanicals in both Hartman and Mildmay illustrates assumptions on the part of

the authors regarding the competency of those women reading the recipes,

again speaking to the commonness of the underlying communal domestic

practice.

These recipes, particularly Mildmay’s receipt, are further replicated in

some form or another across domestic sources, including Jane Dawson’s mid-

seventeenth-century English ‘Sinimun Water’, Elizabeth Hirst’s ‘Cinnament

Water’ of 1684, Mary Glover’s two recipes for ‘Cinnamon watter’ in her 1688

manuscript, which further indicates the existence of common practices and a

shared materia medica.432 While specific instructions are included in Ann

Goodenough’s receipt ‘To make Cinamont Water’, and Elizabeth Freke’s receipt

of 1697 to make:

Cinaman Watter by Infusion - / Take of Cinaman Bruised Fowre ounces, Spirritt of wyne 10 pints Infuse them to gether a fornight in a Bottle Close Stopt Shaking the glass … then dissolve a pound of suger Candy in a Quarte of Rose watter and mix both these Liquors together then putt to

setwall, galingale, white pepper, black pepper, long pepper, juniper berries, citron pills, bayberries, ameos, spikenard, lignum aloes, basil, cubebs, cardamom, cinnamon, calamus aromatic, dill, peony, mastic, olibanum, aloes hepatick, fig, raisins, dates, Jordan almonds, honey, and sugar. 432 FSL.ms.V.b.14, fol.35v, Jane Dawson’s cookery book, c.1650-1699; WL.ms.2840, fol.14r, Elizabeth Hirst’s Receipts; BL.ms.57944, fols.19r,28r, Mary Glover, Her Book, 1688.

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them fowre grains of Musk & half a Scruple of Amber grease Tyed up hand itt in yr Bottle to the neck & it is very good against hart qualms & fittings.433

In her Receipt book of 1650, Elizabeth Digby discusses and differentiates

between first and second distillates, noting particularly prescriptive implications

around strength of product, while Martha Washington’s cinnamon water recipe

(mid-eighteenth-century American colonies) mirrors this advice: ‘shift ye glass

every houre after ye first time, for ye first will be ye strongest, & - ye last will be

very weak’.434 Looking at the ways in which spices were perceived, portrayed,

and employed, it is clear that Early Modern and Colonial awareness and

knowledge of them, as well as familiarity in handling them, was widespread, and

not necessarily specialist, although these spices were commonly, and

consistently, used in a specialized manner in the domestic fashioning of

medicines. Moreover, these botanicals commonly originated in, and later

traversed, a wide range of countries including India, the Spice Islands, Africa,

the Levant, and Southern Europe, as well as the Anglo-American Atlantic. As

such, spices generally, and cinnamon specifically, represent the breadth and

reach of the domestic practice, which embraced any and all medicaments

available which it perceived to be of use domestically. Further, this domestic

practice may be read in terms of its reliance on, and relationship to, broader

social practices, both economic and medical. The place of these botanicals in

the domestic culture firmly ties households and household authors to the

433 FSL.ms.W.a.332, fol.31v, Ann Goodenough’s Receipt Book; BL.ms.45718, fol.31, Elizabeth Freke, Miscellany, Op.cit. 434 HSP.ms.(Phi)Am.530.3.a., f.ol.289, Washington Family Papers, Martha Washington, Booke of cookery and booke of sweetmeat,1749-1799. cinnamon is found in virtually all of Washington’s waters, often in conjunction with galangal, liquorish, aniseed, cloves, nutmeg, and ginger; including the first of her ‘Aquimirabelis’ recipes, and her recipes for ‘Aquecelestis’, ‘rosasolis’, virtually all of the cordial waters, with various attributions, ‘the Plague Water’ remedy, and both ‘Vsquebath’ recipes.

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complex social world in which they lived and practiced in a way that indigenous

plants do not. This was a cosmopolitan, far-seeing practice despite its roots in

localized, communal practices and traditions.

Of Fruit: Elder, Sambucus species

Species of elder, or Sambucus, were native to both England and North

America (unlike the rose, naturalized in England, or imported hard spices).435

Equally, it was used medicinally by indigenous peoples on either side of the

Atlantic prior to European settlement. Its use as a medicinal in Early Modern

English and Colonial American domestic sources, however, whether in receipts

or in private correspondence and journals, is largely drawn from the existing

European tradition, though we can begin to trace a pre-existing indigenous

American practice in the developing Colonial use. Found crowding hedgerows,

invading gardens, and tangling wild bush, the Elder is a small to medium sized

invasive shrub distributed across all temperate continents, with medicinal

species native to Europe, North America, and Asia.436 Elder shrubs typically

have fine, serrated pinnate leaflets, and carry racemes of lacy white to cream

coloured flowers in early summer which blow into clusters of small, dark purple

to black berries in late summer. All parts of the plant have been used

medicinally as illustrated in these seventeenth-century English recipes:

435 The roses typically employed as medicines in the Anglo-American canon, although cultivated in, and often associated with, England, were Rosa gallica and Rosa damascene, both originally imports from more southerly continental Europe. 436 Includes Sambucus racemosa, Sambucus nigra, Sambucus Canadensis, Sambucus Mexicana, and Sambucus chinensis, for example.

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Bark – ‘green rind of Elder’ in Anne Glydd’s ‘Exselent ointment for a Burne’ and again in her receipt ‘To make and exsilent Ointment for the saint Anthony’s Fire’.437 Berry –‘To make syrup of Elder which is Good against the scurby or dropsi and helpeth thos that are troubled with a pain in ther stomacks’.438 Flower – Mary Dacres’ ‘An exelent thing for a humor in ye legs .. Take a pint of milk & put to it a handful of Elderflowers boyle them in it & bathe ye part with it warme morning & night very well’.439 Leave – ‘An other preservative Medecine against the Plague … Take an handful of Elder leaves as much of redd bramble Leaves as much of hearbe Grace and as much of Sage leaves. Washe them and swinge them together in a faire clothe and straine them with a quart of white wine’.440

While elder buds, leaves, or bark were all used domestically, the use of

berries (which exhibit strong antiviral properties) was most common across

Early Modern English and Colonial American sources. Mary Hookes’ English

recipe for the ‘Spiritt off Elder buryes’ called for the reader to ‘Take ye

Elderberyes mash, ans bruse them, in a stoon mortter; & let them stand in an

earthen pan, till they furmenstt, when itt has done working, still itt, in a limbeck,

or a cold still, very well stoped’ .441 A similar recipe for ‘Elder Spiritt’ in Jane

Dawson’s English receipt book instructed the householder to ‘Take of yer Elder

berryes when they are full ripe ... ‘, while Lettice Pudsey’s Colonial manuscript

contains two separate, elder berry based, remedies.442 The first of these, ‘to

make surrup of Elderberry’, required one to

437 BL.ms.45196, fols.67r, 77v,Anne Glydd’s receipt book,1656. 438 IBID, fol.54v. 439 BL.ms.56248, fol.93r, Lady Mary Dacres’ receipt book, 1695. 440 FSL.ms.V.a.388, fol.67v, Mary Carlyon, medical receipt book. 441 WL.ms. 3009, Elizabeth Jacobs’ Receipt Book, 1590-c.1680s, p.75; FSL.ms..L.A.931, fol.72v, Mary Hookes’s cookery book, c.1675-1725. 442 FSL.ms.V.b.14, fol.70r, Jane Dawson’s cookery book, c.1650-1699.

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gather your berrys when thay bee full ri’e, pick them, & bruse them then strache them, & to what quantity you please to make, take 7 pound of find suger, to a quart of that Juce. Mixe your suger & Juce, together in a fine skillet, and so sett it upon the fier but not to hot a fier, for you must bbe sure, that it neither boyle nor simper, but onely to dissolve the suger & to make it through hot, softly stirring it, to bring up the scum & skin it very clean, [coh] it & bottle it.443

Pudsey’s second recipe, ‘To make Mead with Elderberries’, called for

very ripe Elderberries, pick them from ye stalkes, put them in an earther pot, and past them close, & bake them in an over, while they are warm straine them out...’ .444

Pudsey’s manuscript also includes a third elder recipe, this one ‘To make Elder

Wine’.445 Each of Pudsey’s recipes are echoed in other domestic sources:

household examples of elderberry syrup or rob may be found in Mary Glover’s

‘Syrrop of Elder’, and Rose Kendall’s 1682 receipt ‘To make syrup of Elder

Berries’, while elderberry based ‘spirits’, particularly wines, are found in virtually

all of the sources.446

The English physician, John French’s, vernacular text, The Art of

Distilling, also included a similar recipe for an elderberry macerate, or rob.447

This advocated a slow maceration of elderberry juice in vinegar (in ‘some warm

place near the fireside’) followed by distillation in a ‘hot still’.448 Unlike the mild

443 FSL.ms.V.A.450[1] , fol.38r, Lettice Pudsey’s receipt book, c.1675. 444 IBID, fol.60v. 445 IBID, fol.56v. 446 BL.ms.57944, fol.164, Mary Glover, Her Receipt Book, 1688; FSL.ms.V.a.429, fol.53r, Rose Kendall et al, cookery and medical receipt book. 1682. 447 Elderberry ‘rob’ is a liquid based medicine, typically made as a sugar-based syrup, but occasionally seen in alcohol-based recipes. Current recipes may use glycerine to produce a herbal ‘glycerite’ in lieu of sugar. 448 John French, The Art of Distillation. Or, A Treatise of the Choicest Spagyrical Preparations Performed by Way o£ Distillation, Being Partly Taken Out of the Most Select Chemical Authors of the Diverse I,anguages and Partly Out of the Author's Manual Experience together with, The Description of the Chiefest Furnaces and Vessels Used by Ancient and Modern Chemists also A Discourse on Diverse Spagyrical Experiments and Curiosities, and of the Anatomy of Gold and Silver, with The Chiefest Preparations and Curiosities Thereof, and Virtues of Them All. All

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heat seen in Lettice Pudsey’s late-seventeenth-century English recipe, where

‘you must bbe sure, that it neither boyle nor simper, but onely to dissolve the

suger & to make it through hot’, the temperature involved in French’s second,

distillation, portion of the recipe will have destroyed some of the berry

constituents.449 While the two recipes were contemporaneous, the domestic

version was more sensitive to the nature, and distilling demands, of the delicate

nature of the raw material. The exposure of the elderberry botanical product to

extreme heat may be seen to be mirrored in a range of domestic receipts,

however. Representative of English sources is Dawson’s manuscript, written

over the course of the second half of the seventeenth-century, and containing

three receipts for elder wine, each of which advocates ‘boyling’ their elder berry

botanicals (typically at least twice), while Martha Washington instructs the

American householder to set their preparation ‘on ye fire … & let it boyle a

quarter of an houre’ before adding honey and sugar and setting (a third time) to

the fire and ‘boyle & skim ym till it will bear an egg’ a century later.450 Dawson’s

slightly later English, and Washington’s substantially later Colonial, versions of

the elderberry rob appear to be derived from a similar practice to that of

French’s vernacular work, rather than the sensitive domestic recipe written in

Which Are Contained In Six Books Composed By John French, Dr. of Physick (London: 1651), Book 1, p. 21. 449 FSL.ms.V.a..450[1] , fol.38r, Lettice Pudsey, Op.cit.. Sambucus nigra has been relatively widely studied recently; studies supporting its use with upper respiratory disorders include: Peter M. Abuja, Michael Murkovic, and Werner Pfannhauser, ‘Antioxidant and Prooxidant Activities of Elderberry (Sambucus nigra) Extract in Low-Density Lipoprotein Oxidation’, Journal of Agricultural Food Chemistry, 1998, 46 (10), pp 4091–4096. Vivian Barak, Tal Halperin, and Inna Kalickman, ‘The effect of Sambucol, a black elderberry-based, natural product, on the production of human cytokines: I. Inflammatory cytokines, Immunology Laboratory for Tumor Diagnosis, Department of Oncology, Hadassah University Hospital, Jerusalem, Israel, Israeli Cytokine Standardization Laboratory. RA, Buhrmester, JE Ebingerla, and DS. Seigler ‘Sambunigrin and cyanogenic variability in populations of Sambucus canadensis L. (Caprifoliaceae)’. Biochemistry Systems and Ecology 2000;28:689-695. James Duke, Handbook of Medicinal Herbs, (Boca Raton, FL: CRC Press; 1985), p.423. 450 FSL.ms.V.b.14, fols.35,46,54, Jane Dawson’s cookery book, c.1650-1699; HSP.(Phi)Am.530.3.a., Washington Family Papers, Martha Washington, Booke of cookery and booke of sweetmeats, 1749-1799, receipt 254.

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Pudsey’s manuscript. In tracing domestic recipes to vernacular sources which

themselves often reflected even earlier domestic practices, the makings of this

rob highlights the complexity of transmission routes in play across the breadth

of this particular botanical practice.

Similarly, complexities of elderberry end-products, both in terms of their

manufacturing and also in terms of their material make-up, reinforce this picture

of complexity. For example, within the field of culinary history, Early Modern

English and Colonial American elderberry wine has been noted, and

considered, as a historical counterpart to modern wines; that is to say, as a

pleasurable alcoholic beverage with a primarily social, rather than medicinal,

history.451 While there is some reference to the historical perception of wines as

medicinal agents, they have typically not been treated primarily as such by

scholars. Yet looking at Early Modern and Colonial household use in the

domestic manuscripts, the lines are consistently less well defined, and we see

that wines were perceived to be both drinks and medicines more equally.

Martha Washington, for example, writes of her elderberry wine that it is ‘very

good for ye scu’.452 Likewise, Katherine Davies’ undated English receipt book

contains a recipe titled ‘Spirit of Elder for ye Cholick’ which is effectively a

medicinal wine, calling for the householder to

‘Take a bushell of Elder berries full ripe pick of ye stalks, wth ye hand break up berries to a mash put em in an earthen pot or

451 Judith Sumner, American Household Botany. A History of Useful Plants, 1620-1900, (Timber Press: Cambridge, 2004), pp.170-171. 452 HSP.ms.(Phi)Am.530.3.a., Op.cit. Instructions for the production of Martha Washington’s elderberry wine are typical of domestic sources, advising the householder to ‘Take 3 gallons & a halfe of water & set it on ye fire, & when it is warme, put to it a peck of elderberries very rip[e]. bruise them well, & strayne them, & measure the liquor & set it on ye fire again, & let it boyle a quarter of an houre, & scum it very well … ‘ add further ingredients and again ‘boyle & scim ym till it will bear an egg’ before adding the yeast and bottling.

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wooden --- it ye will hold double the quantity, do it in ye morn, Let it stand all day, at night put it in a good pint of east [yeast?] & cover it close wth a sheet and blanket let it work all night.453

The inclusion of yeast suggests that this recipe is clearly intended to produce a

‘spirituous’ result, and yet, like the robs, syrups, and waters, Davies’ elder spirit

is specifically designed to be taken as a medicine, in this case ’for ye

Cholick’.454 In each case, the range and complexities of these medicaments

underlines both intelligent use of elderberry, and a sophistication of domestic

agency in preparing, and applying, botanical preparations.

While berries are the most commonly employed botanical material

derived from elder, bark, flower, and leaf were also employed within traditional

Early Modern English and Colonial American households. The flowers were

used both as medicines and possible foodstuffs. For example, in the late-

sixteenth-century, Elizabeth Jacobs’ English recipe includes ‘Elder budds’ as a

primary ingredient in her ‘Receipt for The Quill, and to Cure A Consumption,

Called All Flower Water’ (a complex example of polypharmacy), and Jane

Dawson includes a specific recipe ‘To make Elder Ointment’, also using elder

buds.455 Mary Glover’s seventeenth-century English recipe uses them in a

remedy ‘For the pyles’, while candied and preserved elderflowers may be found

in recipes from both sides of the Atlantic, including Martha Washington’s ‘Elder

bud salad’, ‘oil of Elder flower’, and elderflower Vinegar.456 There is also

453 BL.Eg.ms.G2214, fol.84, Katherine Davies’ medical and cookery receipts, n.d. 454 Unfortunately, elderberries work as a smooth muscle irritant and mild laxative (much in the same manner as prunes), so this remedy’s effectiveness in soothing the griping associated with colic is rather dubious. 455 FSL.ms.V.b.14, fol.64v, Jane Dawson’s cookery book, c.1650-1699. 456 WL.ms. 3009, Elizabeth Jacobs’ Receipt Book, 1590-c.1680s; BL.ms.57944, fol.21, Mary Glover, Her Receipt Book, 1688. Martha Washington, Booke of Cookery & Booke of Sweetmeats (New York: Columbia University Press, 1995), ed.Karen Hess, recipes 171, 305, and 160.

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historical precedence, particularly in Colonial domestic sources, for the

medicinal use of the leaves, bark, and branches of elder (despite the relatively

high concentrations of cyanogenic glycosides in these parts of the plant).457

For example, Catherine Haines, writing in eighteenth-century Philadelphia, used

the bark of elder as one of five ingredients in her recipe ‘To make an Ointment’,

while Harriot Pinckney used ‘the inside bark of Elder’ in a poultice ‘For a Scald

Head’ in her Carolina recipe from the 1770s, and Rachel Stout Allen

recommended the inclusion of elder roots ‘for a gentle purge’, also in Carolina,

and from the same period.458

The broadening use of elder in Colonial households may at least in part

be the result of exposure to Native American botanical knowledge and use: for

example, the Linnaean travel writer, Peter Kalm, wrote in 1771 of seeing the

Iroquois ‘boil the inner bark of the Sambucus Canadensis, or Canadian elder,

and put it on that part of the cheek in which the pain was most violent. This, I

am told, often diminishes the pain’.459 Kaln’s observation of indigenous use

here speaks well to a broadening of use in the new world. If the berry recipes

generally demonstrate great continuity of application and production, the use of

other elder products illustrates the ability of botanical cultures to expand and

457 Cyanogenic glycosides are glycosides which produce cyanide as a by-product of metabolism; examples of cyanogenic glycosides found in Sambucus spp. include sambunigrin, prunasin, and holocalin. 458 APS.ms.coll.52, series III: Reuben Haines. Catharine Haines, Notebook. 1776 (ms.coll.52, series III: Haines, Reuben [I or II]). SCHS.1086.03.02, Harriott Pinckney Horry’s Receipt Book, 1770. NCSA.ms.Coll.1467. John Allen Papers, Rachel Stout Allen, Medical Memorandum c.1780s. The topical use suggested by Haines and Pinckney was still in use in mid-eighteenth-century Tennessee, with John Thompson recommending a poultice made of the inner bark or flowers of elder for skin eruptions; UT.ms.1271, John Thompson’s Common Place Book, 1803-1822. 459 Peter Kalm, Peter Kalm’s Travels in North America; containing its natural history, and a circumstantial account of its plantations and agriculture in general (London: William Eyres, 1770), Volume Two, p.35.

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adapt. Colonial use of elder, in particular, illustrates a broadening of practice

based on the inherited canon of herbs, with inclusion of new world plants.

Despite the willingness of Colonialists to adopt new world medical uses

in the case of elder, it is primarily a continuity of practical skill and knowledge

that we can trace here, as well as a parity of ingredients and application in

trans-Atlantic use of old world spices and floral remedies. By examining a

range of old world botanicals, Chapter Five has established that a shared,

common Anglo-American canon of plants was employed on both sides of the

Atlantic. Further, the Chapter has demonstrated that this inherited body of

botanicals allowed for the high degree of flexible adaptation typical of domestic

botanical practices in both Anglo, and American, homes.

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Chapter 6. Diverging Cultures: New World Botanical s

Five North American plants played a meaningful part within the trans-

Atlantic, Early Modern and Colonial Anglo-American domestic botanical culture:

lignum vitae, sassafras, sarsaparilla, tobacco, and cinchona. These plants were

used as medicines on either side of the Atlantic, often in surprisingly

homogenous ways, in both Early Modern English, and developing Colonial

American, households. This use illustrates key aspects of the domestic

botanical culture, particularly highlighting the shared materia medica and

commonality of practices and applications, as well as further illustrating the high

degree of fluidity reflecting individual household, and specific coterie,

adaptation. The Chapter aims to highlight that knowledge and varying use of a

series of botanicals to further stress the underlying shared traditions and

practices which enabled domestic authors and practitioners to both adopt new

world plants, and then adapt them to a variety of situations. It further considers

the atheoretical manner in which the domestic culture employed these plants, in

contrast to agents employed within learned contexts. The Chapter shows that

these new world plants had been fully adopted into the English domestic canon

by the late-sixteenth-century, and were in continual use across the

chronological and geographical span considered by the thesis. Moreover, the

Chapter establishes that these plants represented the entire corpus of North

American botanicals to be adopted by the shared Anglo-American materia

medica, in other words, they were the only American plants to be used

consistently in households on both sides of the Atlantic. Finally, the Chapter

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charts the appearance of new plants in Colonial manuscripts of the mid-

eighteenth-century, considering the implications of this for the broader Anglo-

American culture..

A similarly broad range of both domestic and vernacular sources to that

consulted in Chapter Five is mirrored here in order to establish what indigenous

American botanicals were used in Anglo-American households. Vernacular

sources, particularly ‘home physician’ texts, travel writing, and settler texts, as

well as literature derived from popular culture, are all consulted in this Chapter

in order to establish a broad cultural context from which to view the domestic

botanical practice involving these indigenous North American materials.460 Of

sources produced within the household, a range of receipts from both sides of

the Atlantic, and spanning as broad a period as possible, have been consulted:

this both serves, again, to highlight the primary continuity of domestic Anglo-

American practice, while also serving to illustrate emerging differentiation of

practice. Lady Grace Mildmay and Elizabeth Freke’s manuscripts are consulted

in particular here as Mildmay’s writing represents some of the earliest English

use of American botanicals in domestic manuscripts, while Freke’s inclusion of

new world botanicals in a range of remedies well illustrates a seventeenth-

century practice which is further supported by other authors. These

manuscripts are read as repositories of a common botanical knowledge, rather

than as exemplars of women’s cultural and social lives and practice. All of the

domestic English recipes considered in Chapter Six originate in manuscript

460 Hartman’s Family Physitian of 1682 is the text primarily consulted here, though any of the other popular medical texts of the period designed for domestic use could have been used in this capacity equally well, as each contains broadly similar remedies employing virtually identical new world plants and plant combinations.

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receipt books, while American receipt sources, which do not survive in as large

a number, are supplemented by journals and personal correspondence. This

variation in source material reflects differences in cultural norms considered in

greater depth in Chapter Two, with English households typically represented by

receipt book manuscript sources, while ingress into the culture’s American

expression is facilitated by the inclusion of a greater amount of ancillary

evidence sources, including journals, letters, and inventories. An allied aim of

the Chapter, as with the Chapter Five, is the recovery of Early Modern practices

in a trans-Atlantic cultural context, illustrating both the distinctive nature of a

domestic culture, and the inherent integrity of its complex practice, as well as

introducing further ways in which eighteenth-century American botanical usage

begins to diverge from this culture.

Alongside the examination of new world botanical case studies in the

context of key elements of domestic botanical culture, the Chapter considers

the transmission of new world botanicals and their usage as part of the complex

dialogue surrounding grand and petite traditions of Early Modern and Colonial

botanical practice and knowledge. The adoption of new world botanicals into

European use was one of learned, elite sources informing petite traditions in the

first instance, but equally, one from which we can trace emerging new petite

traditions formed very much from a bricolage of information, with an evolving

differentiation of practice and understanding on both sides of the Atlantic. The

American domestic sources, in particular, are interesting for what they tell us of

both the shared, and changing, traditions. These sources tend to reflect a

common use of botanicals across the English settlement where the inherited

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practice was still clearly in use right into the eighteenth-century. The inclusion of

new world botanicals begins to broaden out the American pharmacopoeia mid-

eighteenth-century however, with interesting implications for transmission and

reception which are introduced here, and further explored in the conclusion.

In Edward Winslow’s Puritan settler account, Chronicles of the Pilgrim

Fathers, Plymouth harbour is described as ‘a bay greater than Cape Cod,

compassed with a goodly land’, where the pilgrims found ‘oaks, pines, walnuts,

beech, sassafras, vines, and other trees which we know not’. Further inland

they found signs of Native American habitation and corn cultivation. Here there

is more oak, ‘but not very thick, pines, walnuts, beech, ash, birch, hazel, holly,

asp, sassafras in abundance, and vines every where, cherry trees, plum trees,

and many others which we know not’.461 Just as importantly, are the

many kinds of herbs we found here in winter, as strawberry leaves innumerable, sorrel, yarrow, carvel, brooklime, liverwort, water-cresses, great store of leeks and onions, and an excellent strong kind of flax and hemp.

The wealth of flora described in these passages clearly illustrates not only

Winslow’s attempt to convey the almost excessive profusion of resource

proffered up by the new world, but also it’s association with nature, and

specifically, with the bounty of nature. Sassafras was one of the five American

botanicals already in use within the English domestic canon of medical herbs,

and Winslow’s identification of this plant alongside ‘herbs’ more generally spoke

directly to the Anglo-American domestic audience, suggesting not only the

461 Edward Winslow, as cited in Young (ed.) Chronicles of the Pilgrim Fathers, p.163.

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fecundity of new world botanicals generally, but of medicinal botanicals

specifically.462

As seen in Chapter Four, new world botanicals made their way into the

old world materia medica quickly, becoming staples both in Early Modern

English and Colonial American sources. We might fruitfully refer back to the

concept of an Atlantic botanical culture to explore the shared Early Modern

English and early Colonial American inclusion of new world botanicals, although

this model becomes increasingly inaccurate as we look at eighteenth-century

Colonial use of native plants. Generally speaking, later American sources use

far more new world plants, with some manuscripts, such as Margaretta Prentis

1780s Williamsburg receipt book or Catherine Haine’s Philadelphia notebook of

1776, including indigenous American botanicals in upwards of 50% of the

receipts.463 These sources also use a wider variety of new world plants,

including Poke root, sumac (often referred to as Shoemack’), Maple, prickly

pear, and ‘Indian Turnip’, all new world botanicals which are virtually unheard of

in the English sources.464 This change in the Colonial domestic canon may be

read as reflecting wider social schisms in the trans-Atlantic Anglo-American

world, which are considered briefly in this Chapter, and in greater depth in the

conclusion.

462 IBID. 463 UP.ms 5034(1-4), unfoliated, Margaretta Prentis’ Cookery & Medical Recipes, 1780s; APS.ms.coll.52-ead, series III: Wyck Association Collection, Reuben Haines, Box 87: Folder 2, Catharine Haines’ Notebook, 1776. 464 UP.ms.5034, vol.1, unfoliated, Margaretta Prentis’s Cookery & Medical Recipes , pp.28,29; APS.ms.coll.52-ead, series III: Wyck Association Collection, Reuben Haines, Box 87: Folder 2, unfoliated, Catharine Haines’ Notebook, 1776. Prentis calls for the use of poke berries (in peach brandy) ‘for the gout or rheumatism’, while Catherine Haines’ ‘Syrup for a cough’ contains ‘one pint of Shoemack’, her simple receipt ‘To Make an Ointment’ contains prickly pear, and her ‘Tetter Ointment’ uses ‘Two Large green Indian Turnips or as many small ones in proportion’.).

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Chapter Six focuses primarily on indigenous American botanicals listed

in domestic scribal sources from both sides of the Atlantic, and which were

clearly used as everyday working botanicals rather than novelty ingredients for

occasional use. Indeed, there are only five case study botanicals which were in

common trans-Atlantic use from the sixteenth- through the eighteenth-centuries;

lignum vitae, or guaiacum, sassafras, sarsaparilla, tobacco, and cinchona.

Each of these plants, however, is regularly found in both domestic and

vernacular recipes, of both English and American origin, both singly, and in

combination with each other on both sides of the Atlantic, and across the time

span considered by the thesis. Mary Glover’s English recipe for ‘flower of

Oyntment’ of 1688, for example, contains guaiacum, sarsaparilla, and

sassafrass with sage, rose, celandine, and elder.465 We find a similar recipe in

George Hartman’s 1682 English vernacular Family Physician, which calls for

‘shavings of Lignum Vitae (which you may have at the Turners) Shavings of

Sassafras, Sarsaparilla, of each an ounce’ mixed with a number of old world

botanicals (and nitre!) to produce an anodyne mixture labelled ‘Dr. Mynsight his

Excellent Remedy for the Tooth-Ach’.466 A second recipe in Hartman, ‘My Lord

Brunkard's Diet-Drink for the Scurvey and Dropsie’, instructs the reader to ‘Take

of Lignum vitae and Sarsaparilla, of each eight ounces, Sassafras one ounce’.

A third calls for ‘Sarsaparilla, Bark of Lignum Vitae, of each three ounces;

China-Root, Polipode of the Oak, Sassafrass and sweet Fennel-seed’ along

with other herbs and a complex delivery routine in Hartman’s ‘Mr. Barnet's

Excellent Diet-Drink, wherewith he cured three of his Children of the Kings-Evil;

465 BL.Add.ms.57944, fol.20r, Mary Glover’s culinary and recipe books, 1688. 466 George Hartman, Family Physitian, 1682, p.125.

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he had it from an able Physician’.467 This collection of recipes in Hartman

illustrates the complex transmission of information, with similar examples to

those found in contemporaneous domestic recipes, and another ‘from an able

Physician’. As vernacular medical texts largely mirrored domestic receipt books

in terms of their layout, content, and aim (as discussed in Chapter Three), we

see that this instance of new world botanical prescribing fully conforms to this

complexity of transmission route, with ‘little’ domestic practices running parallel

to the ‘grand’ tradition employed by learned physicians.

Sassafras, sarsaparilla, and guaiacum commonly appear in various

combinations with each other across both domestic, and vernacular, sources.

For example, Anne Glydd’s English receipt book of 1656 contains several

recipes with sarsaparilla and sassafras, but no mention of cinchona, guaiacum,

or tobacco.468 The three new world botanicals which Glydd does employ are

typically used in combination with other new world plants, though varied

combinations. Thus, ‘Dr Ratlif’s method for the Scurvey’ demands that the

householder ‘Take Sasaparilla and China roots of each two ounces’.469

Similarly, ‘An Exelent thing to sweeten ye Blood’ contains ‘3 ounces of

Sasaparila, China root, [and] sasafras’, while her second new world mixture ‘to

sweeten the blood’ omits the sassafras, and her receipt for ‘Dr Browns Diet

Drinck’ contains China root and sassafras, but no sarsaparilla.470 Likewise,

467 IBID, pp.125, 188. Hartman’s acknowledgement of sources is discussed in chapter three. 468 BL.Add.MS.45196, Anne Glydd’s Receipt Book, 1656-1700. 469 BL.ms.56248, fol.74r, Lady Mary Dacres’ receipt book, 1695. Kay M Moss suggests that ‘china root’ is a common name for sarsaparilla in colonial texts in her book, Southern Folk Medicine, but as the term occurs in receipts along with sarsaparilla, I suspect that it is much more likely to refer to ginseng, as both the Chinese Ginseng, Panax ginseng, and the North American, Panax quinquefolius, were used interchangeably in early modern and colonial medicines. Colonial use of sassafras and sarsaparilla are considered later in the chapter. 470 BL.ms.56248, fol.87r, 92v, 99r, Lady Mary Dacres’s receipt book, IBID.

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Penelope Jephson Patrick’s English manuscript of 1672 contains a similar

sassafras and sarsaparilla combination aimed at treating ‘An approved remedy

for the Stone & Gravel … Take Sassafras wood sliced thin 6 oz. Sarsaparilla

sliced 6 oz … Of this water take 8. spoonfuls mixed with as much white wine, &

two spoonfuls of the Syrup of Marshmallows’.471 This combination prescribing

is also seen in vernacular texts, as in the case of Hartman’s ‘comfortable

restorative Broth for the Stomach’ which instructs the householder to

Take Sassafrase three ounces, of China sliced one ounce; infuse it all Night in Springwater; 15 the next morning put thereto a Cock well-dressed, and three handfuls of Raisins of the Sun stoned, or of Prunes, or of both if you like it, and a little bundle of Rosemary, Thime, and a Crust of Manchet-bread, and at the latter end a little whole Mace; let it boyl close covered until half is consumed, then strain it.472

As will be seen in the detailed case studies for guaiacum, sassafras, and

sarsaparilla, these botanicals were commonly perceived as a triad of plants,

with each occasionally prescribed singly, but with all typically treated as

sympathetic compounds, as though their varied combinations produced new,

single botanical entities. The transmission and reception of new world

botanicals into domestic sources was complex and varied. Whether considered

singly, or in combination, the main herbs studied in this Chapter are indicative of

the willingness, and capacity, for domestic practices to change and reflect

current thinking while retaining the best of their inherited practices.

Guaiacum, Guaiacum officinale

Of those new world botanicals studied in depth here, sassafras,

sarsaparilla, and guaiacum were commonly used in combination with each

471 FSL.ms.V.a.396, fol.100r, Penelope Jephson Patrick’s receipt book, 1672. 472 George Hartman, Family Physitian (London: 1696), p.15.

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other. Of these, guaiacum was perhaps the single botanical with the strongest

distinct individual character. Also called Lignum vitae, Guaiac, or Guaiac wood,

Guaiacum officinale is an ornamental tree of the West Indies, southern North

America, and northern South America. Both the resin and bark were in use

medicinally during the Early Modern period, though it is the bark which is

typically specified in Early Modern English and Colonial American domestic

sources.473 That it does occur in both domestic and vernacular works is

evidenced by Elizabeth Freke’s reference to ‘Lignum-Ditty, or Guacum tree, or

Peck-Wood’ in her ‘interpretation’ of Gerard’s herbal, along with the two entries

included in J.B.’s English Expositor, the simple ‘Lignum vita. See Guaiacum’,

and a further ‘Guaiacum. A wood called by some Lignum vita. It is much vsed in

Physick against the French disease’. 474

Clearly guaiacum was introduced, and adopted, by Early Modern materia

medica quite early on, not only as an ‘exotic’ medicament from the new world,

but as a workable material object which formed the basis of treatments aimed

specifically at syphilis, or ‘the French disease’. Lady Grace Mildmay, writing in

late-sixteenth- and very early-seventeenth-century Norfolk, includes a long,

complex set of instructions on how to prepare ‘The oil and water of guaiacum’,

using ‘first 3 grains or 6 grains or 10 grains, according to the strength of the

party’ (presupposing both that the producer is able to distinguish differences in

botanical strength generally, and familiarity with the guaiac product specifically)

473 The ‘bark’ used here was typically material taken from either the inner ‘heartwood’ of the tree, or the outer layer of the root, and rarely refers to the external cortex we associate with the term. 474BL.Add.ms.45718, fol.167, Elizabeth Freke, Op.Cit.; J.B., Doctor of Physicke. An English Expositor: Teaching the interpretation of the hardest words vsed in our Language. With Svndry Explications, Descriptions, and Discourses, London, Printed by Iohn Legatt, 1621.

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of ‘well ectified precipitate’, and dissolve it ‘either mingled with treacle,

mithridate, or cardus water’. Her administrating and dosage instructions are

complex and numerous, with various differentiations based on both patient and

ailment. She recommended its use as a pyretic and in the treatment of ulcers,

‘knobs and swellings’, and sore throats. The first of these is an inferred use, for

she doesn’t actually specify its first, or primary, action, rather relating

guaiacum’s ability to provoke a sweat and the patient’s expected response to it:

‘then dry away the sweat, put on a clean shirt and then go abroad about your

business if the weather be warm, if cold keep the house’.475 This suggests that

the plant’s sudurific action is widely accepted and known culturally. Indeed, the

assumption of shared knowledge here which is the product of a communally

based tradition and practice means that Mildmay can give instructions on what

to do about the sweaty clothing, without having to first identify that sweating is

an expected outcome when medically administering guaiacum. This level of

both practicality and assumed knowledge is suggestive of Mildmay’s personal

experience of working with this specific botanical, and reflects back on the key

aspect of flexible individualization common to the shared ‘little’ tradition of

domestic botanical culture.

A very similar recipe to Mildmay’s late-sixteenth-century English recipe

may be found in Catherine Haines’ late-eighteenth-century Philadelphia

manuscript. Haines writes:

To make the Tincture of Guayac. … Infuse in a Bottle containing about 3 pints of Rum, 2 Ounces of Gum Guayac pounded; expose this bottle, well corked, to the Sun for seven or eight days, Turn it round & shake The Liquor from time to time, to dissolve the Gum more easily: observe

475 NRO.ms.W/A misc.vol.32-33, 35, v.33, fols.58-60, Lady Grace Mildmay, Op.Cit.

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not to fill the bottle entirely, lest The fermentation should burst it. strain this Liquor Through some fine Cotton or soft paper: put it in some common bottles, closely corked; when it convenient make your stock, for the longer is kept the better. The dose is a table spoonful be taken every morning fasting.476

Apart from the difference in menstruum (or base liquid used to extract and

preserve the botanical ingredients) previously discussed in Chapter Four, these

receipts are remarkably similar. Both are, to all intents and purposes

(menstruum aside) ‘simples’, that is to say, based almost entirely on the

medicinal action of a single botanical agent: in this case, Guaiacum. Both

highlight the need to ‘precipitate’ or ‘shake’ the product well in order to fully

dissolve the dried botanical material in the alcoholic extract, and each gives

instructions as to dosage. This is particularly noteworthy as neither author

universally provides this amount of detail in all of her receipts, suggesting that

guaiac wood presented particular challenges for domestic production and use,

though not, as witnessed by its continued use, insurmountable ones. The

continuity, not only of guaiacum, but also of an unusually detailed set of

instructions pertaining to its preparation illustrates the on-going nature of

domestic practice in this instance despite the geographical and chronological

distance between authors.

A high degree of consistency in both the use and the administration of

Lignum occurred across periods and domestic/ vernacular authors reflecting an

experiential appreciation of the plant’s action. For example, guaiacum was

often specified in both receipts and vernacular texts as a ‘blood sweetener’, as

seen in Mary Doggett’s English receipt ‘To Sweeten The Blood’ dated 1604,

476 APS.ms.coll.52-ead, series III: Wyck Association Collection, Reuben Haines, Box 87: Folder 2, unfoliated, Catharine Haines’ Notebook, 1776.

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which uses ‘Lignum vita Chips … Sassaphras Chips… [and] Sarsaparilla’.477 In

humoral medicine a reference to the blood’s sweetness would have held

theoretical information about the healthy balance of a patient’s bodily fluids; for

domestic practitioners, and in common social parlance more generally, the term

probably referred far less specifically to questions of humoral balance, and

more to the idea that blood was more ambiguously seen as either a conduit, or

an indicator, (or both) of ‘healthiness’ generally. Thus a receipt to ‘sweeten the

blood’ was simply one which was capable of improving, or restoring, health to

the individual. In the case of guaiacum, its general ability to ‘sweeten the blood’

was associated with treatment of syphilis, or the ‘French disease’, specifically,

rather than with a theoretical balancing of body along humoral lines.

When taken in quantity, as noted in Mildmay’s account of the botanical,

Guaiacum provoked copious sweating associated with the cathartic breaking

point, and hopeful patient improvement, which was commonly seen in infectious

diseases. In the case of the ‘French disease’, or syphilis, the lack of obvious

infectious symptoms, including fever, in the primary and secondary phases was

disturbing, and an ability to provoke a physical reaction with the use of Guaiac

wood would have been perceived as remedial in itself. Indeed, its action as a

pyretic could have been interpreted by Early Modern and Colonial authors in a

number of manners. For humoralists the temperature would have indicated a

change in humoral balance and energy within the patient; but for those

prescribing outside of this theoretical model, there may well have been an

anecdotal reasoning: the use of guaiacum was seen to be effective; an

477 BL.ms.A27466, fol.154r, Mary Doggett, Her Booke of Receipts, 1604.

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associative ‘like for like’ rationale: fevers often presage a dramatic improvement

in a patient’s condition, and guaiacum provokes a fever; or even a simplified

domestic version of prevailing elite theory correlating to the theory of distillation.

Here the distilling off of dross seen in the preparation of botanical waters is

equated to the distilling off of dross seen in extreme perspiration. In this case,

the remaining liquid left over at the end of the process, whether aqua mirabilis

or blood, was seen to be perfected, or ‘sweetened’. Lignum’s consistent

appearance in Anglo-American domestic sources combined with a lack of

theoretical rationale accompanying these guaiac-based recipes suggests that

questions surrounding ‘why and how’ guaiacum worked were largely irrelevant

to the culture as a whole; what was important to these authors was the

domestic experience that it did work.

Guaiacum was not solely used for the treatment of syphilis, however.

Elizabeth Freke wrote: ‘Off. Guaiacum …In Cureing off the French pox there is

nor Medicyne better, then the decoction of Guaicum’ she went on to add

Itt is all for exelentt In a Dropsey, and for An Agume, and the falling sickness. And for dissases of the Blader & Reyns; and for Paines In the Joyntts. And for all diseases proceeding from Cold Tumours and Wynd. ~ proved ~.478

Moreover, Freke’s use of Lignum vitae in treating diseases of the urinary

system as well as for the treatment of rheumatism, or ‘paines in the joyntts’, is

mirrored in the majority of domestic manuscripts, although Freke’s text is

atypical in its humoral interpretation of the plant. A typical example of this non

theoretical application of guaiacum may be found in one of Margaretta Prentis’

478 BL. Archives, ms. A45718, fol.150,167, Elizabeth Freke, miscellany, September 1684 - February 1714.

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two eighteenth-century anti-rheumatic receipts from Williamsburg with a simple

‘Rheumatism: … Gum Guai=cum’ equation.479 Without a learned theoretical

framework or rationale for use of the botanical, Prentis’s purely pragmatic

guaiac wood recipe which details how to prepare and apply the botanical is

typical of the domestic botanical practice.

Moreover, guaiacum’s use as an anodyne and anti-inflammatory across

the period may be seen in a wide range of domestic recipes, and largely mirrors

current pharmacognosical thinking and research on the plant’s known actions.

Guaiac wood was widely recommended for the treatment of physical pain,

particularly that pain associated with rheumatic conditions, but also bruising and

trauma more generally. In England, 1626, Mary Baumfylde wrote that

For ye Rheumatism/ half an ounce of Gum guaicum steept in half a pint of best brandy Take a Teaspoonfull in a Glass of spring Water in a morning fasting & at 4 aclock in ye afternoon it an Excellent Remedy.480

Margaretta Prentis utilized 2 oz Gum Guaicum in an internal remedy ‘For the

Reumatism’ in Colonial Williamsburg in the 1780s, and Eliza Pickney, writing in

mid-eighteenth-century Carolina, instructs her reader to

Take one Ounce of Gum Guiacum, powder it very fine, and take as much as will lie on an English Silling in a glass of Water night and morning. Repeat the same quantity every Spring and Fall, tho’ you may be free from pain, and it will prevent its returning.481

A slightly unusual recipe may be seen in Mary Faussett’s rheumatic receipt

combining Guaiacum with antimony and elder in the Hepperton manuscript

from1680s England titled ‘a very Good thing, to cure Rhumatick pain’. This 479 UP.ms.5035.2, unfoliated, Margaretta Prentis’ Cookery & Medical Recipes, 1780s, p.40. 480 FSL. V.a.456, Mary Baumfylde, medical cookery receipts, 1626, pdf.77. 481 UP.ms.5034.2, unfoliated, Margaretta Prentis’s Cookery and Medical Recipes, 1780s, p.40; SCHS.ms.43/2178, Eliza Lucas Pinckney’s Household Book, 1756.

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instructs the householder to ‘ Take Gum Guaiacum one Scruple … Cinnabar or

Antomony, in powder, half a Conserve of Hipps, half a Scruple Surup of Ellder,

a suficiant quantity, to make it into a Boluss’.482 That Early Modern English and

Colonial American women were using this botanical in such a wide range of

conditions shows a clear empirical understanding of its anodyne effect derived

from practical experience in using the plant across the whole of the domestic

culture, as well as by individual practitioners.

An atypical remedy employing guaiacum in the treatment of rheumatic

conditions may be seen in Catherine Haines’ eighteenth-century American

receipt for ‘a Cure for the Reumatism’:

¼ of Lignum vity chips. ½ of Stoned Reasons a Large handful of Burdocke Root/ Sliced all put in a Gallon of wok & stewed till it becomes to half a gall if thought best to do it In a Iron pott & drink ½ pint of it about milk warm about 11 a Clock & 4 In the afternoon.483

The combination here is unique amongst the domestic sources consulted.

Guaiacum typically occurred with other new world herbs, particularly sassafras

and sarsaparilla, though the inclusion of old world spices was common also,

This recipe of Haine’s further includes both antimony and elder, making it an

atypical example of domestic prescribing. Indeed, in over one hundred

manuscripts consulted, this is the only example of this particular old world, new

world, botanical and ‘chymical’ combination. While the inclusion of antimony

strongly implies both that Haines was adopting ‘learned’ medical practices (the

use of chemical compounds along with the traditional plants is seen in virtually 482 WL.ms.7999, Vol.3, unfoliated, Hepperton Receipts, p.49. 483 APS.ms.coll.52-ead, series III: Wyck Association Collection, Reuben Haines, Box 87: Folder 2, unfoliated, Catharine Haines, Notebook, 1776. ‘Stoned reasons’ probably refers to pitted plums here, though typically ‘reason’ would refer to raisons, or dried grapes.

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all medical texts from the mid-seventeenth-century, but only in a minority of

domestic sources), and has access to an apothecary for her supplies, the

singularity of raw materials combined in this recipe indicates a personal

differentiation and appropriation typical of domestic prescribing, again

illustrating the willingness, and ability, of individual practitioners to adapt the

shared domestic practice.

More common are those receipts in both English and American sources

calling for the use of guaiacum in a wide range of practical remedies, including

scurvy and cholic. For example, Penelope Jephson Patrick recommended its

use with sarsaparilla in ‘A drink for the Scurvy to be taken Spring & fall … Take

of the Shavings of Guiacum, of the roots of Sarsaparilla cutt Small, of each two

ounces’, while Hannah Huthwaite’s early-eighteenth-century Colonial script

contains several remedies to treat ‘cholick’, three of them containing Guaicum,

including a ‘Cholick Wine’, ‘Cholick Water’, and ‘Cholick Tincture’.484 Katherine

Davies’ undated English receipt book, meanwhile, contains several remedies

containing gauaicum, including ‘Lady Giffords Rx for ye Cholick Gravell, Stone

in ye Kidneys, Surfit, or any ill Digestion of ye Stomack’, and ‘Daffys Elixir’. 485

The range of conditions treated here echoes that willingness of domestic

practitioners to harness the anodyne action of guaiacum in the treatment of

several different conditions again effectively illustrating both the flexibility of the

broader domestic practice, and the empirical basis of personal experience

underlying that flexibility.

484 FSL., ms.V.a.396, Penelope Jephson Patrick, receipt book, 1672, pdf.100.b; Win.doc.193, unfoliated, Hannah Huthwaite’ Recipe Book, c.1720, p.64,65,67. 485 BL.Eg.ms.2214, fol.173v, 174r, Katherine Davies’ Medical & Cookery Recipes, 1638.

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The use of Guaiacum as a urinary system stimulant, as seen in Davies’

manuscript, acting both as a diuretic (hence it’s use in curing ‘dropsie’) and as a

nephroliphic, was common across the breadth of Early Modern and Colonial

society, indeed, even vernacular texts commonly prescribed Guaiac in this

manner.486 For example, Hartman’s seventeenth-century tome, The Family

Physician (1682) includes two remedies for ‘dropsy’ using guaiacum; a

‘Mochoacan Ale to purge the Dropsie’ which call for ‘four ounces of Mochoacan,

three ounces of Hermodactyls, three ounces of Lignum vitae, three Races of

Ginger, two Nutmegs’ which he assures us

is so wholsom and effectual, that if it be drunk a fortnight at Spring and Michaelmas, it will not only take away the Causes of the great Dropsie, and all kind of Agues, the Stone, and Accidents of the Brain, and infirmi|ties of the Spleen, but also restore the Complection to an excellent Habit and Colour, defending the Body from a number of Inconveniences.487

A similar, second, dropsy remedy found in Hartman titled a ‘very good Diet

Drink against the Dropsie’, combined Guaiacum with Sassafras and several

other botanicals in ‘two Gallons of Ale, and six quarts of white wine’. This recipe

is mirrored in Anne Glydd’s contemporaneous English receipt for an ‘an Exsilent

Diet Drink for the Evil of any sharp humour … Take of the shavings of Guaicum

2 drams: Sarsaparilles 2 ounces’. 488 Along similar lines, Mary Chantrell’s ‘Most

Excellent Recept for Dropsy’ calls for ‘Sarsaperilla … Lignum vita: or: guiacum

… Sarsafras’ to which Juniper berries are later, added, and Anne Glydd’s

486 Dropsie = oedema, or accumulation of fluids, typically in the lower limbs (though it can occur anywhere if the venous or lymphatic systems are impaired). Nephroliphic = something acting on kidney stones, hopefully to dissolve them. 487 George Hartman, Family Physitian, 1682,p.178-179. 488 Hartman, Family Physitian, 1682, p.39. It is interesting to note that many of Hartman’s recipes containing sassafras, sarsaparilla, and Lignum vitae (whether solely or in varied combinations) also contain purgatives, whether emetics such as castorum (castor oil) or laxatives (such as senna), echoing to some extent the purgative nature of Fausset’s rheumatic remedy containing antimony and elder, and again reinforcing the likelihood of transmission between the vernacular and the domestic in that instance. BL.ms.45196, fol.42r, Anne Glydd’ receipt book,1656.

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manuscript contains a receipt for ‘An Exselent meddicin for to Take away a

waterish humour and swelling in the Legs’:

Take a Gallon of spring water putt Therin half a pound of Guaiacum it is also called Lignum vita also put in a good ounc of sweet fennel seeds Bruised and two ounces of licoras sliced put thes in a pipsum or somewhat that you can well close and let it stand and stew gentely until it be wasted to a pottel then strain it and keep it close stoped in a bottle and it if be a woman let her drink a quarter of a pint every morning fasting and as much Every afternoon at four a clock until it be done and if you find any good make the same proportion a gain and take it until the swelling be quit gone a man may take almost half a pint at a time. 489

Lignum vitae’s ability to promote perspiration makes its use in these domestic

recipes to treat dropsy, or oedema, eminently sensible, again illustrating a

pragmatic approach to prescribing grounded in both personal, and communal,

experience. In employing Guaic to ‘provoke’ the loss of excess fluid, each of

these remedies equated the herbs’ observable actions on the body with

associated ‘healing’ crises. In the treatment of ‘dropsy’, the plant’s diuretic

action would have been literally associated with an observable reduction in the

size of the patient’s swollen legs, while the production of sweat would have

been seen to have commonly presaged recovery from feverish conditions. In

both cases this ability to stimulate the outpouring of liquid excretion was

translated into a healing property directly associated with the botanical agent

itself.

What is notable in all of these Anglo-American remedies, regardless of

geographical or chronological origin, is the great range of use to which

guaiacum was put. Clearly it was appreciated as a sudorific agent capable of

489 WL.ms.1548, fol.73, Mary Chantrell’s Receipt Book; BL.ms.45196, fol.41v, .Anne Glydd’s receipt book,1656.

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provoking profuse sweating. This single action on the part of the plant may

therefore have been perceived by Early Modern English and Colonial American

practitioners as an effective remedial ‘tonic’, capable of mimicking and

provoking the body’s natural healing crisis (sweating was associated with the

fevers attending illness, and an agent which brought about similar symptoms

may have been seen to be stimulating the body’s own defences). Likewise, it is

possible that guaiacum was employed in some instances as a humoral agent

capable of moving excessive heat and liquid out of the body, thus restoring

balance. It is perhaps most likely, however, given that this plant was derived

from an atheoretical Native practice, that the original application was based on

empirical practice: it was known to help people recover from certain ailments.

The domestic recipes suggest Anglo-American domestic practitioners tended to

employ the botanical in this manner: it was used in a variety of situations

because it was perceived to work. As with its cohorts, sassafras and

sarsaparilla, guaiacum was typically seen by domestic practitioners as a

polychrest botanical with its many applications tied to its physiological actions

rather than as a humoral agent tied to theoretical models. Guiac was readily

adopted into the domestic canon, and widely employed across the culture,

because domestic authors could see its effects on the body, and thus perceived

a therapeutic benefit to its use.

Sassafras, Sassafras albidium

In the spring of the year, When the blood is too thick,

There is nothing so rare As the sassafras stick.

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It cleans up the liver, It strengthens the heart, And to the whole system

New life doth impart. Sassafras, oh, sassafras! Thou art the stuff for me!

And in the spring I love to sing Sweet sassafras! O thee. 490

James Elmoke’s early nineteenth-century ode to sassafras typifies

Anglo-American cultural approbation of the plant as a popular cultural artefact

and medicinal agent. Sassafras is a native tree of the entire North American

eastern seaboard, and was first ‘discovered’ and named by the Spanish

botanist and herbalist, Nicolás Monardes (1493 – 1588).491 By 1621, J.B.’s

English Expositor included the following entry:

Sassafras. A tree of great vertue, which groweth in the Florida of the West Indies: the rinde hereof hath a sweete smell like Cinnamon. It comforteth the lyuer, and stomack, and openeth obstructions of the inward parts, being hotte and dry in the second degree. The best of the Tree is the roote, next the boughes, then the body, but the principall goodnesse of all resteth in the ryndes.492

By the late-seventeenth-century, the English explorer, John Lawson wrote in his

New Voyage to Carolina that

The Vertues of Saffafras are well known in Europe. This Wood sometimes grows to be above two Foot over, and is very durable and lasting, used for Bowls, Timbers, Posts for Houses, and other Things that require standing in the Ground. 'Tis very light. It bears a white Flower, which is very cleansing to the Blood, being eaten in the Spring, with other Sallating. The Berry, when ripe, is black; 'tis very oily, Carminative, and extremely prevalent in Clysters for the Colick. The Bark of the Root is a Specifick to those afflicted with the Gripes. The same in Powder, and a

490James B. Elmoke, Love Amongst the Mistletoe, self-published:Indiana, c.1830. Library of R. W. WHITTINGHILL. A number of poems dedicated to the virtues of Sassafras may be found in Elmoke’s compilation, including ‘In the spring of the year’, ‘Dudes and Sassafras’, and ‘Indiana’. 491 Maude Grieves, A Modern Herbal, (Tiger Books, 1996), p 327. 492 J.B., An English Expositor, 1621.

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Lotion made thereof, is much used by the Savages, to mundify old Ulcers, and for several other Uses; being highly esteem'd among them.493

This early popularity of sassafras as an American botanical may be further seen

in the twelve references in Winslow’s Chronicles of the Pilgrim Fathers,

including description of first landing at Cape Cod:

… in the bay, which is a good harbour and pleasant bay …. Compassed about to the very sea with oaks, pines, juniper, sassafras, and other sweet wood’ Young notes that by 1824 ‘there are a few sassafras bushes’ still standing around the harbour, ‘but no juniper’. The juniper was probably the red cedar. Josselyn, in his New England’s Rarities, published in 1627, says, page 49, ‘Cardan says juniper is cedar in hot countries, and juniper in cold countries; it is here very dwarfish and shrubby, growing for the most part by the sea-side’. And Wood, in his New England’s Prospect, printed in 1639, says, p.19, ‘the cedar tree is a tree of no great growth, not bearing above a food and a half at the most, neither is it very high. This wood is of color red and white, like yew, smelling as sweet as juniper’.494

In his nineteenth-century commentary on Winslow’s work, Alexander Young

also notes how frequently sassafras is mentioned in the chronicles, writing in

one instance that

this is the third time the sassafras has been mentioned. On the first discovery of America, great medicinal virtues were ascribed to the bark and roots of this tree, and ship-looads of it were exported to Europe. Monardes, a Spanish physician of Seville who published in 154, his second part of his ‘Historia medicinal …’ … [mentions] its great efficacy in dropsies, agues, liver-complaints, &c. … The roots were sold in England at three shillings a pound in Gosnold’s time, (1602), who partly loaded his vessel with it from one of the Elizabeth islands. Brereton, the journalist of that voyage, speaks of ‘sassagras trees, great plenty, all the island over, a tree of high price and profit’; and Archer, another of the voyagers, says that ‘the powder of sassafras in twelve hours cured one of our company that had

493 John Lawson, A New Voyage to Carolina, (London, 1709), p.94. 494 Edward Winslow, Chronicles of the Pilgrim Fathers, Alexander Young, ed. (London, 1849), p.118, text and notes.

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taken a great surfeit by eating the bellies of dog-fish, a very delicious meat’..495

The breadth of employment associated with sassafras suggested in these

vernacular writings is mirrored in domestic sources on both sides of the Atlantic:

Sarah Longe’s English receipt for ‘An approved medicine called purging aile, to

be taken every spring and falle’ includes a number of botanicals, including

Bayberries, Aniseed, ‘Ruburb’, and ‘Sasafras’ wood, while Rachel Stout Allen’s

‘Receit for a Cancer’ written in the Colonial Carolinas also includes sassafras.496

Sassafras was known to, popular with, and employed by authors of both

Colonial and English domestic sources. Along with the Colonial receipts

included in the Colonial manuscripts of Eliza Pinckney, Harriet Pinkney Horry,

Rachel Stout Allen, and Dorothea Christina Schmidt, sassafras is also used in

the seventeenth-century English receipt books of Anne Glydd, Lady Mary

Dacre, and Penelope Jephison Patrick. Each of these recommends a similar

spread of use suggesting a shared, communal appreciation for the plants’

medical action. For example, the late-seventeenth-century English

householder, Elizabeth Freke, writes knowledgably about the plant:

Off Sassaffras … Sasafras both wood Root and Barks is Much Used. for the Hipp Goute. and for obstructions, & for the French

495 Edward Winslow, Chronicles of the Pilgrim Fathers, Alexander Young, ed. IBID, p.130, notes: ‘See Purchas, iv.1646, 1649, 1653; Mass.Hist. Collections xxiii.257; Michaux’s Sylva Americana, ii.144; Bigelow’s Medical Botany, ii.142, and Plants of Boston and its Vicinity, p. 170. For the use of Monardes, and of ‘Frampton’s Ioyfull Newes out of the New-found Worlde’, which is nothing but a translation of it, printed at London in 1596, I am indebted to the rich library of Harvard College’. Young is referring to Nicolas Monardes’ work, Dos libros, el uno que trata de todas las cosas que se traen de nuestras Indias Occidentales, que sirven al uso de la medicina, y el otro que trata de la piedra bezaar, y de la yerva escuerçonera. Sevilla: 1565), first translated into English in 1577 by John Frampton and published as Ioyfull newes out of the newe founde worlde, wherein is declared the rare and singular vertues of diuerse and sundrie hearbes, trees, oyles, plantes, and stones, with their applications, as well for phisicke as chirurgerie (London). 496 FSL.ms.V.a.425, unfoliated, Sarah Longe, Her Recipe Booke, n.d., pp.29-30; NCSA.ms.Coll.1467, Allen Family Papers, Rachel Stout Allen Medical Memorandum (n.d., probably late 1700s).

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Pox. Itts expels wynd from the Wombe, Takes off –dities; provokes the Couses Wonderfully. & makes Lean people Fatt, & Cures Barreness. & good against Contagious Diseases. And Cold Disseases in the Stomack. helps Concocttion and stops vomiting. Itt Cures the head Ach. Expells Gravell, & taks off the head off –ryne. 497

Echoing Lawson’s travel writings and Winslow’s settler text in its descriptive

tone, while placing this within a specifically medical context and format, Freke’s

description of sassafras shows a willingness and ability on the part of domestic

authors to adapt information from a variety of sources into an existing, familiar

format. Nor is this combining of source information unique to Freke. The

seventeenth-century Boyle family manuscript contains a similar description

based on descriptive medical information:

Sassafras opens Obstructions or Stoppings, Strengthens the Breast exceedingly if it be weakened through Cold, breaks the Stones, Stays Vomiting, provokes Urine and is profitable in the Morbus Gallicus.498

In each of these manuscripts we see a transmission and reception of

knowledge through differing cultures and routes. The natural history and settler

writing showcasing knowledge of a native North American tree as example of

both American flora and indigenous medicine has been appropriated,

synthesized, and adapted into the private sphere of the domestic botanical

culture. Indeed, the complexity of transmission for Early Modern and Colonial

medical knowledge is highlighted by the adapted use of these American plants.

As in the case of guaiacum, the knowledge of sassafras as a medical agent was

initially derived from an oral Native American practice, this initial oral communal

497 BL. Add.ms.45718, fol.149, Elizabeth Freke, miscellany, September 1684 - February 1714. Freke further writes in this recipe of sassafras ‘Aand in Shortt is good for all Diseases shall proceed from cold & thin Humours. a dragma of itt taken att a time, or boyled & worked in yr Best. ~ ~’ clearly placing the plant within a Galenical framework atypical of domestic authors, yet demonstrating the willingness of Freke to adapt adopted material to a working context familiar to her; as we see domestic practitioners doing repeatedly in a variety of ways. 498 WC.ms.1340, fol.2v, Boyle family receipt book, 1675-1710.

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knowledge was then appropriated by elite Europeans, categorized and written

about by learned men, and accessed by the domestic Anglo-American culture

via these printed sources. From the indigenous use noted by Winslow through

to Freke and the Boyle family’s medical placing of the plant, the route of

sassafras as a botanical entity within this instance of Anglo-American practice is

parenthesized by communal, domestic cultures on either side of the Atlantic.

At the centre of this complex transmission of botanical information,

however, lie those vernacular works accessed by domestic readers on both

sides of the Atlantic. These works serve both as templates of domestic use,

and as exemplars of the existing practice.499 Indeed, sassafras may be found in

a substantial number of receipt books, both English and Colonial American, in a

variety of remedies aimed at treating a range of ailments. The Allen manuscript

of South Carolina calls for sassafras as one of five herbs in ‘A Receit for a

Cancer’, and William Lenoir, writing in North Carolina at the very end of the

eighteenth-century, recommends it as one of eight herbs which are added to

‘rusty iron’ and decocted into ‘strong Vinager’ as a ‘Cure for Dropsey or

Kickhicsay’, while the eighteenth-century Swedish naturalist, Peter Kalm, noted

that it was commonly used by southern Colonialists as a vermifuge, as well as

useful in the treatment of dropsy.500 This breadth of use is further echoed in the

499 As noted in chapters two and three, there are numerous examples of domestic recipes predating vernacular examples. 500 NCSA.ms.Coll.1467, Allen Family Papers, Rachel Stout Allen, Medical Memorandum, (c.1780s); SHC.ms.Coll.00426; 3.1.7.1, 3.1.7.3, Lenoir Family Papers, William Lenoir. Medical Memorandum, 1798-1839; Kalm, Peter. Peter Kalm’s Travels in North America; containing its natural history, and a circumstantial account of its plantations and agriculture in general (London: William Eyres, 1770); Kalm’s recommendation of sassafras in the treatment of dropsy was noted in the colonial Encyclopaedia; or, A dictionary of arts, sciences, and miscellaneous literature ... Vol.IX (Philadelphia: Printed by Thomas Dobson, 1798) p.602: ‘Professor Kalm informs us, that a decoction of the root of sassafras in water, drank every morning is used with success in the dropsy’.

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vernacular medical texts. For example, Hartman’s Family Physition contains a

number of recipes containing sassafras, in various combinations with other old

and new world herbs, often as a stomachic, though its use was not limited

solely to this purpose. As already seen, sassafras was commonly employed as

both a restorative and as a ‘cleansing’ botanical, often in combination with

sarsaparilla and ‘china root’. It was also utilized in this manner on its own, as

recommended by Hartman in his ‘Excellent purgina Ale or Diet-Drink for Spring

or Fall’ which argues that ‘This is excellent against Dropsical Humors to cleanse

the Blood, and purge Flegm, and Coller, expellth Winds in the Stomack, and

very much strengheneth’501. Sassafras was used in a wide range of seemingly

unrelated ailments; Hartman is here recommending it simultaneously as a blood

cleaner, expectorant (capable of purging phlegm), anti-spasmodic and

carminative. As is the case with domestic use of guaiacum, Hartman’s remedy

is here perhaps less suggestive of a polychrest, ‘cure all’, formula than it is an

awareness of the plant’s actions which affect the body in various ways. In this

light, the vernacular text may be again read as reflecting a pragmatic domestic

culture built upon observed application and experience.

Domestic authors similarly did use sassafras in a wide range or

remedies. For example, Lady Grace Mildmay’s late-sixteenth-century English

manuscript lists sassafras as a sudorific (or diaphoretic) agent in the treatment

of the ‘falling sickness’, while the seventeenth-century English author, Elizabeth

Freke, includes sassafras as one of the primary ingredients of her diuretic

‘Electtuary of Juniper’ receipt:

501 George Hartman, Family Physitian, (London, 1682), pp.184-185.

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128. An Electtuary of Junper, Berryes (att. Sharrass) take of Ripe Junyper Berryes one pound, Faire Spring Watter Two pounde, Bruise them very well And Infuse them ( _____ ) water then press itt outt after six or seven hours Infusson, and Add to Itt one pound of fine whitt Sugar, & Boyle itt to a Sirrup, then Ad Forte ounces of the Electtuary of Sassafrass Callamas Aramaticus In Powder a Dragme and A halfe; ( _____ ) a Dragme And Saffron Two Scruples; Mix them well together In the powders And putt it up Close for your use ( _____ _____ ) Whose virtuss Are … Itt provokes uriine, powerfully and brings Away Sand. And Gravell, and itt is the Better iff you add (_____ ) the powder of Winter Cherries three ounces, & an ounce of the powder of wood= Lice, & for take every Morning and Night on dram In the Wine of Juniper Berryes.502

Both Mildmay and Freke’s recipes are using sassafras as an ‘eliminative’

botanical, that is to say, each includes it as part of a recipe intended to help the

patient pass toxins out of the body, either by sweating, or by passing urine.

Margaret Boyle’s employment of sassafras in her ‘New Tea good against ye

Gout’ also employs this ‘cleansing’ and ‘flushing’ botanical.503 As a broad

remedial approach, ‘elimination’ could be, and was, applied to a wide range of

ailments, largely as a means of mimicking the body’s own response to illness.

In particular, the perceived ability of sassafras to promote diuresis seen

across domestic recipes becomes increasingly interesting in consideration of

the plants’ supportive actions. Of these, its relaxant effect on smooth muscle

tissue, as well as a noted anodyne effect, would further the remedial action and

value of the plant. For example, Freke’s use of sassafras to treat kidney stones

reflects the ability of the plant to both relax the kidney tubules enough to aid in

the passing of stones and simultaneously helping to relieve the pain, while its

action in increasing urine flow would have aided in ‘flushing out’ the stones.

502 NRO.ms.W/A misc.vol.32-33, 35. Lady Grace Mildmay, Medical Papers, v.32, ff.35r-35v, v.33, ff 40-41; BL.Add. MS. 45719, fol. 122r , Elizabeth Freke, ‘An Electtuary of Juniper’. 503 WC.ms.1340, fol.6v, Boyle Family receipt book, 1675-1710.

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Indeed, in its combined actions, sassafras is the ideal Early Modern antilithic

botanical. Further, the soothing, relaxing qualities of sassafras would explain its

wider application in cases of cholic (intestinal cramping) and unproductive

coughs along with more specific botanicals aimed at treating the specific

ailment, as seen in Hartman’s ‘Excellent purging Ale’504. Moreover, this

ancillary role, whereby the new world sassafras was used as an adjunct to

established old world herbs, may be seen in antilithic remedies where it is itself

a specific, as is the case in Jephson Patrick’s English recipe for ‘An approved

remedy for the Stone & Gravel’ of 1672 which uses sassafras (and sarsaparilla)

along with ‘Syrup of Marshmallows’, marshmallow having a long-standing

reputation for easing the passing of stones.505 Not only was sassafras being

adopted into existing ways of presenting, and thinking about, botanicals by

domestic authors, but also equally, Early Modern and Colonial practitioners

were adapting it to the existing canon of plants and uses.

Sassafras, (along with sarsaparilla, which is often linked with it in

usage), was commonly employed in this supportive, adjunct role in Early

Modern domestic prescribing. It is this anodyne quality which may explain the

plants use in such a wide variety of ailments on both sides of the Atlantic. As

with lignum vita, the anodyne action of sassafras was commonly applied to a

range of ailments. For example, Margarette Prentis’ Colonial American book of

Cookery & Medical Recipes of the 1780s contains a recipe for ‘sassafrass root,

Grape Vine root, & wine leafs boiled’ to be used in treating a sore breast, while

she calls for a simple aqueous extract made from ‘the inside Bark of Maple and

504 Hartman, Family Physitian, Op cit., pp.184-185. 505 FSL.ms.V.a.396, fol.100r, Penelope Jephson Patrick’s receipt book, 1672.

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Sassafrass’ in the treatment of sore eyes.506 This application of the plant in

the treatment of a quite broad range of ailments where pain relieving qualities

would be of benefit, most notably for a ‘sore breast’, and in the treatment of

cancer, is typical of the pragmatism found in domestic prescribing. Clearly

there is a strong practical element to the plant’s use in each of these instances:

the plant seems to be employed not so much as a ‘curative agent’ for specific

diseases, but rather as an agent with very specific properties which might be

applied in a number of instances. This very adaptability of sassafras is not only

an indication of the plant’s varied actions, but equally, an indication of the

flexibility, experience, and ingenuity of the practice employing it.

Sarsaparilla, Smilax regelii

As was seen with both guaiacum and sassafras, sarsaparilla was both

adopted into, and used throughout, the Anglo-American canon in highly varied

ways. Equally, it is a tree of the northern Americas, whose medical use was

known and employed by indigenous peoples. In Edward Phillips’ New World of

English Words, printed in 1658, sarsaparilla is simply described as the root of a

certain tree called Smilax Peruviana.’507 There was clearly some earlier

confusion in English apprehension of the plant and its origins, however, as

illustrated by the definition for sarsaparilla to be found in J.B.’s An English

Expositor of 1621: ‘Sarcaparillia. A plant of India, the roote whereof is often

506 UP.ms.5034-3, unfoliated, Margaretta Prentis, Cookery & Medical Recipes, 1780s, pp.23, 24. 507 Phillips, Edward. The New World of English Words, (London: E.Tyler, Printer), 1658.

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vsed in dyet drinkes, against the French, and o|ther diseases’.508 A quite

endearing reference to American botanicals is to be found in William Wood’s

description of what may be expected from the new world, when he refers to

‘saxifarilla’; which is possibly a combined sassafras-sarsaparilla hybrid which he

is further confusing with saxifrage:

the ground affords very good kitchen gardens for turnips, parsnips, carrots, radishes, and pumpions, muskmelon, isquouterquashes, cucumbers, onions, and whatsoever grows well in England grows as well there, many things being better and larger. There is likewise growing all manner of herbs for meat and medicine, and that not only in planted gardens but in the woods, without either the art of the help of man, as sweet marjoram, purslane, sorrel, penerial, yarrow, myrtle, saxifarilla, bays, etc.509

A confusion occasionally mirrored in domestic sources where sarsaparilla and

sassafras are conflated, as seen in Catharine Haines’ 1776 Philadelphia recipe

‘To Cure the St Vitas Dance’ which calls for ‘Sassaparilla Root’.510 Sarsaparilla,

Smilax spp., may refer to a number of central and North American plants of the

smilax genus, though that most commonly referred to in horticultural books from

the period comes from the West Indies.

As a botanical with as many applications as guaiacum or sassafras, the

use of sarsaparilla allowed domestic practitioners to demonstrate both their own

personal agency and their mastery of domestic prescribing. Lady Grace

Mildmay recommended sarsaparilla for the treatment of the pox, combined with 508 J.B. Doctor of Physicke. An English Expositor: Teaching the Interpretation of the hardest words vsed in our Language. With Svndry Explications, Descriptions, and Discourses (London: 1621). 509 ‘Saxifrage’ refers to members of the saxifrage family. Saxifraga oppositifolia grows across the northern hemisphere, including northern North America and southern England. ‘Isquouterquashes’ almost certainly is an early English attempt to translate indigenous name for what became ‘squash‘. William Wood, Alden T. Baughan, New England’s Prospect, London, 1634, p.36. This passage has also been considered in chapter three. 510 APS.ms.coll.52-ead, series III: Wyck Association Collection, Reuben Haines, Box 87: Folder 2, unfoliated, Catharine Haines, Notebook (Philadelphia 1776).

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both senna (a laxative) and a range of carminatives.511 Mildmay also related the

remedy prescribed for a patient with palsy by a certain Mr Napper, ‘… take of

sarsaparilla, china [root], lignum vitae, of each 1 ounce … ‘ as a means of

relieving the side effects of said disease in late-sixteenth-century England,

notably his skin which ‘was then much broken out with itch, boils and scabs’.

Not only does sarsaparilla act as an anodyne agent (similar, if slightly weaker,

to the action of sassafras), but it is antipruritic (soothes itchiness), and

stimulates the skin’s own healing mechanisms. As a result, Mildmay’s

recommendation of sarsaparilla in both recipes shows a pragmatic, empirical

approach to its use typical not only of Mildmay, but of domestic practitioners

more widely.

Like sassafras, sarsaparilla found its way into Early Modern English

domestic use relatively quickly and easily, as shown by Mildmay’s sixteenth-

century familiarity with the plant. And indeed, as already noted, several recipes

combine sarsaparilla and sassafras, both in vernacular and domestic, English

and American, sources, from Penelope Jephson Patrick’s English recipe of

1672 ‘for the Stone and Gravel’ to Catharine Haines’ eighteen century receipt

from Philadelphia ‘To Make a Diet Drink’.512 By the time that Grace Mildmay

wrote her medical papers in the late-sixteenth- and early-seventeenth-centuries,

the sassafras-guaiac wood-sarsaparilla combination was already forming the

backbone of household remedies, as seen in her remedy for ‘The cure of the

511 Carminatives are substances which have a relaxing effect on the gastrointestinal tract. They are often prescribed along with irritant laxatives such as senna as a means of lessening the dramatically painful and spastic effects of the latter. 512 FSL.ms.V.a.396, fol.100r, Penelope Jephson Patrick’s receipt book, 1671-1675; APS.ms.coll.52-ead, series III: Wyck Association Collection, Reuben Haines, Box 87: Folder 2, unfoliated, Catharine Haines, Notebook, 1776.

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pox, the surest, shortest, and easiest that ever was found’.513 In 1638 Elizabeth

Digby included it in her English recipe for ‘A good dyett drinke for a dropsy, or

swelling’, instructing her reader to distill ‘Sarsaparilla one ounce, Cartix guaici

… radix Saxafrage … Lignum Rhodium … Roubarbe … Agaricke… Sweete

ffennell seedes … Annise Seedes …[and] Licorish ‘, mixing the new botanical

with old world plants in a prototype ‘health drink’.514 The common Early Modern

and Colonial conflation between food and medicine typical of domestic

manuscripts, and discussed in Chapter Two, may also be clearly seen here.

While this blurring of lines between the remedial and the culinary existed across

medical practices, including both ‘grand’ and ‘little’ traditions, it is entirely typical

of the domestic culture to absorb new botanical material into this nutritive, rather

than a theoretical, medical framework.

Mixing of herbs where sarsaparilla is employed is almost universal

across sources, and sarsaparilla is most commonly combined with either

sassafras, or guaiacum, or both. For example, George Hartman lists a number

of recipes containing sassafras, but relatively few of them employ sarsaparilla

and sassafras separately. Of these, there is a clear perception of sarsaparilla

as a ‘stomachic’, employed to ease the more violent effects of the laxatives.

For example, in his receipt for ‘A Purging Ale by Dr. Butler, Physitian to King

James’, Hartman adds sarsaparilla and ‘liquoras’ to ‘Sena and Polipody of the

Oak’ (along with other herbs) with the advice that ‘If you would have it more

purging, increase, or double the proportion of Sena’.515 A similar approach may

513 NRO.ms.v.33,fols.125-126, Grace Mildmay, Medical Papers. 514 BL.Eg.ms.2197, fol.12v, Elizabeth Digby, ‘ receipts :is approved by persons of qualitie and judgment, collected by Elizabeth Digby, 1650’. 515 George Hartman, Family Physitian, 1682,pp.179-180.

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be seen in Hartman’s remedy to ‘comfort the spleen and stomach’, calling for

the householder to

Take Sarsaparilla one ounce; the rind of the Root of Tamarisk, three drams; of the Root of Zedoary, two scruples; Purslane-seeds, one dram; reduce all into a fine Powder, and with Syrup of Citrons, and Syrup of the Juice of Borage, a sufficient quantity; make an Electuary.516

Sarsaparilla’s perceived remedial action by domestic sources is not limited to

the gastro-intestinal system, however. While Mary Glover does employ it in her

ambiguous English recipe for ‘a Dyet Drinke’ of 1688 (echoing Elizabeth Digby’s

‘dyett drinke’ of 1638), Margaretta Prentis recommends it in a compound

botanical ‘for a Dropsy’ in 1780s Williamsburg, Virginia.517 In the latter of these

recipes, Prentis calls for the combination of ‘Pine Tops, Centaury, Sarsaparrlla,

Sasafras, Golden Rod, Horse Rhadish Root, [and] Garlick’.518 As seen in early

English sources, both domestic and vernacular, Prentis is using the relatively

common Sarsaparilla and Sassafras combination, but here in a rather unique

manner. Unlike the English versions, she is incorporating considerably more

plants specific to the ‘American’ pharmacopeia such as pine and goldenrod

while still retaining clear English materia medica botanicals such as centaury

and garlic.

More than guaiac and sassafras, sarsaparilla was employed as an

adjunct herb. While lignum vita held a specific association with syphilis, and

sassafras was common employed in treating kidney stones and oedema,

sarsaparilla was used in remedies for both ailments in conjunction with either

lignum or sassafras. This may be seen in Mary Doggett’s 1604 English receipt 516 IBID. 517 BL.ms.57944, unfoliated, Mary Glover, Her Receipt Book, 1688, p.13. 518 UP.ms.5034.4, unfoliated, Margaretta Prentis’s Cookery and Medical Recipes, 1780s, pp.24-25.

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‘To Sweeten The Blood’, with its ‘Lignum vita Chips … Sassaphras Chips…

[and] Sarsaparilla’, as well as in Mary Glover’s late-seventeenth-century English

recipe for ‘flower of Oyntment’ which contained sarsaparilla, guaiacum, and

sassafras.519 Very occasionally sarsaparilla seems to have been employed by

domestic authors as a stand-in for either guaiac wood or sassafras, mirroring

the confusion seen in its name and provenance. For example, Elizabeth Freke

writes ‘Of Sarsaparilla … Itt is perticulerly good for the French Pox, & pains In

the Limbs & for the Cureing off Cronical diseases. Itt is allsoe used for the Kings

Evill and the likes. Itt giving ease to such softs off Distempers ~ ~’, employing

sarsaparilla in much the same vein as a number of other authors use

guaiacum.520 This conflation of sarsaparilla with sassafras and guaiacum

suggests that it was less familiar as an autonomous agent than the other new

world herbs. In this instance, the lack of a singular use, or regular application of

a particular action on the part of the plant, results in a less developed sense of

the plant’s character, suggesting that this new world plant held a tenuous place

in the Anglo-American canon, and one almost entirely defined by its perceived

medical proximity to other plants.

Tobacco, Nicotiana spp.

The earliest European use of tobacco suggests that it was clearly seen,

at least initially, to be a medicinal agent rather than a recreational, or luxury,

item, though the picture was complicated by the botanical’s association with

519 BL.Add.ms.27466, fol.154r, Mary Doggett, Her Booke of Receipts, 1604; BL.Add.ms.57944, unfoliated, Mary Glover’s culinary and recipe books, 1688, p.20. 520 BL.Add. ms. 45719, fol. 122r , Elizabeth Freke.

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new world peoples, flora, and commerce.521 The description of tobacco in J.B.’s

English Expositor of 1621 is brief and largely unilluminating: ‘Nicotiane. The

hearbe Tobacco, so called of a French mans name who first brought the

knowledge of this herbe into France’. John Lawson’s 1700 record of Native

American tobacco use, on the other hand, suggests both knowledge of its

indigenous provenance and use, and an awareness of its addictive nature,

noting of the ‘Indians of North Carolina’ that

Their Teeth are yellow with Smoaking Tobacco, which both Men and Women are much addicted to. They tell us, that they had Tobacco amongst them, before the Europeans made any Discovery of that Continent.522

That it was closely associated with the ‘new world’ is equally illustrated by the

flora and fauna to be found in mid-eighteenth-century Virginia as described by

the English travel writer, Andrew Burnaby. This latter includes a number of

plants, including two of those most important to Colonialists – tobacco and corn:

Virginia, in its natural state, produces great quantities of fruits and medicinal plants, with trees and flowers of infinitely various kinds. Tobacco and Indian corn are the original produce of the country; likewise the pigeon-berry, and rattle-snake-root so esteemed in all ulcerous and pleuritical complaints: grapes, strawberries, hickory nuts, mulberries, chesnuts, and several other fruits, grow wild and spontaneously. 523

521 Cf. W.A.Penn, The Soverane Herbe: A History of Tobacco (first printed 1901, reprinted Montana, USA: Kessinger Publishing, 2010); Iain Gately, Tobacco: A Cultural History of How an Exotic Plant Seduced Civilization (Grove Press, 2003); Eric Burns, The Smoke of the Gods: A Social History of Tobacco, (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2007); Norton, Marcy, Sacred Gifts, Profane Pleasures: A History of Tobacco and Chocolate in the Atlantic World, (Cornell University Press, 2010). 522 John Lawson, A New Voyage to Carolina; Containing the Exact Description and Natural History of That Country: Together with the Present State Thereof. And A Journal of a Thousand Miles, Travel'd Thro' Several Nations of Indians. Giving a Particular Account of Their Customs, Manners, &c. (London:1674-1711), p.172-173. 523 Rev. Andrew Burnaby, Travels Through the Middle Settlements in North America, In the Years 1759 and 1760, with Observations upon the State of the Colonies, Edition the Third, Revised, Corrected, and Greatly Enlarged, by the Author, London (Printed for T.Payne, at the Mews-Gate, 1798) p.9-10.

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The earliest, and most common, use of tobacco within Early Modern

English and Colonial American domestic sources is as the basis of ointments or

salves. Indeed, the use of tobacco as a vulnerary, or healing ointment, seems

specific. Margaretta Prentis’ American recipe for English ‘Comfrey Salve’ is

followed by one for American ‘Tobacco Salve’ (which calls for two pounds of

fresh tobacco leaves and half a pound of ‘juice of Tobacco’).524 Catherine

Haines’ Philadelphia manuscript of 1779 includes an untitled receipt which

similarly combines ‘the juce of Green Tobacca [and] one pound of the Leaves’

containing no instructions for administration or use.525 Ebenezer Parkman’s

mid-eighteenth-century Massachusetts diary also illustrates the botanical’s

popularity: ‘[September] 28 [1757] Mrs Tainter yesterday brot & applyd a

Tobacco Ointment to my Wifes Legg – but it is no better’.526 Likewise, Mary

Hookes’ 1680 English ‘Salve for a Green Wound’ is remarkably similar to

Elizabeth Freke’s tobacco salve, used ‘for all wounds, and Margaret Baker’s

manuscript contains an ‘oyntment of tobacco’.527

An altogether typical example of a tobacco salve recipe may be seen in

Mary Glover’s ‘ointment of Tobacco’ receipt of 1688:

Take of Tobacco Leaves Bruised two pound Steep them a whole night in half a … of Clarett’ … and ‘a pound of juce of Tobacco four ounces of Rosin Boyle itt…’ add of ‘new beese wax half an ounce make itt in to an ointment according to art’. – ‘It will ask a hole summers day to wright the virtues of this ointment and my poor … is to weak to give it the hundred part

524University of Virginia Rare Books and Manuscripts Archive, ms.5034.2, Margaretta Prentis Williamburg Cookery and Medical Recipes, 1780s, p.284-25. 525 APS.ms.coll.52-ead, series III: Wyck Association Collection, Reuben Haines, Box 87: Folder 2, unfoliated, Catharine Haines, Notebook, 1776. 526 MHS.ms.P-363, reels 7.3-7.5, P-220, Ms.N-662, Parkman Family Papers, Diary of Ebenezer Parkman, 1756-1761, cited in Rebecca J. Tannenbaum, The Healer’s Calling, Women and Medicine in Early New England, (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2002), p.8. 527 BL.ms.45718, Elizabeth Freke, Recipe Book, cited in Leong, ‘Making Medicine in Early Modern Households’, p.163; BL.ms.S2485, fol.37r, 67v, Margaret Baker’s Receipt Book.

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of its true use: it Cures tumours… wounds… scabs itch Stinging with Nettels … Venomous Beasts wounds made with confused Arrose, itt helps scaldings’ and so on … 528

In each of these recipes, the domestic authors are employing the new world

botanical within an existing context, often seeming to make direct substitutions,

using tobacco instead of the old world comfrey, for example. This reflects a

cultural predisposition to use ‘exotic’ material over common domestic

ingredients, which may also be seen in the use of spices.529 Equally, it reflects

a subtlety in differentiation borne out by personal experience working directly

with the plants. Moreover, topical ointments containing tobacco as a primary

ingredient were popular, and common. The availability of the herb, greatly

facilitated by its early cultivation in the colonies, ensured that supply met this

demand, allowing the domestic culture to fully embrace the new material.

Although no other preparation is as common as the ointment, tobacco

was used in other ways also. Mary Hookes’ receipt book contains instructions

for the preparation of ‘Tobacoe Watter’, while Katherine Davies’ medical and

cooker receipts includes tobacco in a receipt to cure the ‘Fitts of ye mother’.530

Davies’ manuscript also contains composition instructions for ‘The Composition

of Tobaco For ye swimming and giddiness in ye head my Lord Chamdos

brought it from Aleppo it cured him there’ which combines a number of old

(rose, betany) and new (‘sarsophras’, ‘tobaco’) world dry botanicals clearly

intended to be smoked:

528 FSL.ms.931, unfoliated, Mary Hookes’ Receipt Book, 1680, p.3 (medical receipts); BL.ms.57944, fol.141, Mary Glover, Her Receipt Book, 1688. 529 It was common across the early modern world for both domestic and learned authors to advocate the use of spices such as pepper or ginger as aromatic rubefacients, for example, instead of equally efficacious local plants such as horseradish. 530 FSL.ms.a.931, fol.75v, Mary Hookes’ Receipt Book, c.1675-1725.

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Lignum Aloes Barke of sarsophras Storeax White amber Rose mary blossums Betany blossums Of each 2 ounces Mix all these together and put it into a rose box as hard as may be.531

This is suggestive of two later receipts in KW’s English Receipt Book of 1710

which outline the best ingredients needed to produce a ‘Smoke for a pipe’, while

Margaret Baker’s rather unusual instructions on how to best ‘perfume tobacco

whiche is pleasent to take it commfortes the head and perfumes the breath and

roome where in it is taken’ broaches the use of tobacco as fumigant.532 The

role of tobacco in ‘cleaning the air’ may be extended in some instances to its

use as a smoked commodity, for example, the smoking of tobacco at Eton

College was made compulsory during the Great Plague of 1665-66 on health

reasons, and boys avoiding their daily dose were punished accordingly.533 This

use of the plant as an inhaled medicament echoes back to the indigenous

American’s practice outlined in John Lawson’s description of Native teeth ruined

by excessive smoking. It is not, however, typically recommended in receipt

books, nor did it play a substantial role in the Anglo-American domestic

culture.534

531 BL.Eg.ms.2214, fol.77r, Katherine Davies’ medical and cooker receipts. 532532 WL.ms.1320, fols.24,62, K.W., A Receipt Book, 1700 (with ‘A Book of Phisick Made June 1770 written inside the front cover);BL.Sl.ms.2485, fol.37r, Margaret Baker, Receipt Book. 533Maxwell Lyte, in his History of Eton College, 4th ed, (Macmillan & Co, 1911) quotes a reference from Hearne’s Collections, vol.vii p.208; Tom Rogers told Hearne `that he was never whipped so much in his life as he was one morning for not smoaking’. 534 John Lawson, A New Voyage to Carolina; Containing the Exact Description and Natural History of That Country: Together with the Present State Thereof. And A Journal of a Thousand Miles, Travel'd Thro' Several Nations of Indians. Giving a Particular Account of Their Customs, Manners, &c. (London:1674-1711), p.172-173.

Lavender seeds one pd of dryed sage 2 pd Dryed bettany 2 pt Tobaco 4 pd

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The role of tobacco as a social botanical commodity is illustrated by the

eighteenth-century invoices included in two separate letters from New York

found in the Cadwallader Colden estate papers. In the first, sent from ‘Philadia

June 23rd 1714’, Colder writes to a ‘Mr John Tounsend Mercht in Barbados’,

asking for a bill of lading for a range of goods, including:

middling bread 20/ White D* 25/ I forgot to tell you that the Broun D* 17 Herrings wer much damnified Tobacco 10/12 by ye rats their getting into Pork 45 the Cask Rum 2/9 Sugar 50/ ~ Capt Parker.535

And indeed, tobacco is a particularly interesting plant for investigators, as it

easily and readily transverses categories, running from luxury commodity to

botanical medicine. The second letter, of ‘Philad’ Nov’ 30 1714’, refers more

specifically to tobacco, and particularly to the commercial value of tobacco:

I could not send the Tobacco you desir'd for your Orders wer it should belong of which sort their was none except what D' Graham had bought before Mr Arbuthnotte bought some out of what he coll'd ye one half in short nasty Tobacco. 536

His assessment of the tobacco as ‘short and nasty’ suggests a discerning

merchant’s eye, but specific reference to the tobacco’s intended end use in

Colder’s writing leaves an ambiguity about whether the tobacco is primarily to

be used as a recreational indulgence or as a medical botanical. The earlier,

common recipes using tobacco in ointments suggests that, for the purposes of

Anglo-American household use from the sixteenth- through to the eighteenth-

centuries at least, tobacco was considered to be primarily medicinal, and of

particular use as an external agent. 535 Cadwallader Colden’s Letters and Papers, 1688-1776, as reprinted for the Collections of the New York Historical Society for the year 1917, New York: 1918, p.15. 536 Letter entitled ‘PhildIA Novr 30 1714/ To Mr Jacob Franco Mercht in Barbados, Cadwallader Colden’t Letters and Papers, IBID, p. 26.

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The wider popular perception of tobacco, both in terms of the sphere of

use, including both public and private venues, and in terms of multiplicity of

application by Early Modern and Colonial Anglo-Americans, was not entirely

positive, however. For example, King James I’s ‘Counter-blaste to Tobacco’ of

1604 described smoking as ‘loathsome to the eye, hateful to the nose, harmful

to the brain … dangerous to the lungs’, while Ben Johnson associated the

smoking of tobacco with the ‘polecat and madam, or gallant and clown’.537 Yet

smoking remained popular, with upwards of 7,000 tobacco warehouses,

packing plants, and outlets in London alone selling tobacco in the early

seventeenth-century.538 Indeed, the condemnation of tobacco seems to be

entirely aimed at its use as an indulgence, and towards those enamoured of

smoking the herb. Its household use in wound ointments garnered no disdain

at all, indeed, it is entirely possible that elite male authors such as James I and

Johnson were entirely unaware of this ‘little’ use which may be seen in domestic

sources across the whole of the period.

The variety of ways in which people viewed this botanical across Anglo-

American society reflects a broader inherited cultural norm of conflation

between plant properties and uses, or at least in a lack of differentiation. If rose

water was as likely to be employed as a cooking ingredient as it was a

medicine, so tobacco was often both luxury item and remedial agent. The

difference between the two botanicals lies in their larger social placing: rose

was used in a range of products and these were adapted to a multitude of uses,

537 James I, ‘A Counter-Blaste to Tobacco’, (London: 1604); Ben Johnson, Every Man in his Humor, (London, 1601). 538 Sander L Gilman & Xun, Zhou, Smoke: A Global History of Smoking, (Reaktion Books, 2004), pp.15-16.

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all within a domestic context. Tobacco, on the other hand, was employed

variously across the whole of Early Modern and Colonial society, ultimately

including a recreational use, but its most common domestic use was as a

medical agent. Indeed, tobacco was specifically seen to be an ‘external’

medical agent in Anglo-American homes across the period, one to be used

topically, or in fumigation. Unlike guaiac wood, sassafras, and sarsaparilla, each

of which served a multitude of uses demonstrating the willingness of individual

practitioners to perceive these agents in broad, adaptable terms, the domestic

use of tobacco was fairly homogeneous and constant, illustrating a shared

domestic practice distinct from broader social usage.

Jesuit’s Bark, Cinchona spp.

Cinchona was, along with the opium poppy, the second botanical

identified by Roy Porter as medically active, and in use by Early Modern

medicine.539 Also known as ‘Peruvian Bark’, cinchona spp. is a ‘genus of

evergreen tress or shrubs with fragrant white or pink panicled flowers, growing

in the tropical valleys of the Andes’. Several of the species contain the anti-

malarial constituent, quinine, in their bark; hence the traditional (indigenous and

adoptive European) as well as current, use or cinchona in treating tertiary

fevers. As with all of the new world botanicals examined here, the introduction

of Cinchona into the European canon, both learned and domestic, occurred via

elite transmission routes. Equally, this knowledge originated in oral, indigenous

539

Roy Porter, Disease, medicine and society in England, (Cambridge University Press: Cambridge, 1995),

p.8. See also ‘Of Opium and Poppies, Papaver spp.’, p. 229.

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cultures, and, once adopted by domestic Anglo-American practitioners, was

further transmitted via oral, scribal, and printed means, evidence of which is

found in letters and receipts representative of the whole of the period

considered by the thesis, and originating on both sides of the Atlantic. 540

The twentieth-century historian, Maude Grieve, noted that cinchona was

‘first advertised for sale in England by James Thompson in 1658’, while Roy

Porter spoke of Peruvian bark’s use from ‘the latter part of the seventeenth-

century’ onwards.541 Also in 1658, ‘the English weekly Mercurius Politicus

contained an announcement proclaiming that: ‘The excellent powder known by

the name of 'Jesuit's powder' may be obtained from several London

chemists’.542 Cinchona appeared officially in the London Pharmacopoeia of

1677, though a wealth of evidence suggesting even earlier ‘old world’ use of this

‘new world’ botanical exists.543 Cinchona is mentioned in Sir Walter Raleigh’s

writings of 1596, and again in Robert Harcourt’s work of 1613, suggesting that it

was not only known by these authors, but that its use was being actively

promoted. By the early-eighteenth-century the plant was known, not only as an

imported medicinal, but as a botanical and horticultural garden entity, as

540 There is a substantial amount of scholarship tracing the history and mythology of cinchona’s introduction into European materia medica: Cf. Fiammetta Rocco, Quinine: Malaria and the Quest for a Cure That Changed the World, (Harper Perennial: 2004); Jane Holiday, Beneath the Quinine Tree (Indigo Dreams, 2012). 541 Roy Porter, Disease, medicine, and society in England (2002: pp.8); Maude Grieve, A Modern Herbal. The first London Pharmacopoeia was published in 1618, with reprints in 1621, 1632, 1639 and 1677. The first revised edition didn’t appear until 1721. 542 Josef Rompel, ‘Jesuit's Bark.’ The Catholic Encyclopedia. Vol. 8. New York: Robert Appleton Company, 1910. 543 Cf. J. Jaramillo-Arango, ‘A critical review of the basic facts in the history of cinchona’, Journal of the Linnean Society (Botany), 53:272-311,1949; Jane Holiday, Beneath the Quinine Tree (Indigo Dreams, 2012); Fiammetta Rocco, Quinine: Malaria and the Quest for a Cure That Changed the World, (Harper Perennial: 2004); M. Honigsbaum, The fever trail: in search of the cure for malaria, (London: MacMillan, 2001); Mark Honigsbaum, and M. Willcox, ‘Cinchona,’ in Traditional medicinal plants and malaria, M. Willcox, G. Bodeker, and P. Rasoanaivo (eds), pp. 21-41. (Boca Raton, FL: CRC Press, 2004).

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illustrated by its inclusion in James Pettifer’s Hortus Peruvaniusor 1715.544

Moreover, cinchona was not only to be found in learned works such as the

Pharmacopoeia, or the elite writings of Raleigh, Harcourt, or Pettifort, but was in

regular Anglo-American domestic use from 1680s.

That Early Modern and Colonial householders were using cinchona, and

using it both effectively, and specifically, is supported by receipts across

domestic sources. Elizabeth Godfrey’s English receipt book of 1686 provides

instructions on ‘How to give y Jesuets Powder’, as does Elizabeth Freke’s

recipe for same (also written in England around the same time).545 The latter

notes that ‘Off Jesuit’s Bark, or Peruvian Bark’:

the powder off this Bark given in a due quantity is the most certain and safe remedy for an Ague proved by severall phisitions, takeing one ounce of this powder and devide itt equally in twelve parts off which take one paper off when the fitt of yt Ague is quite off and saff to hours after then take another of the papers; and for Cotinue itt every three or 4 hours takeing a paper in a glass of wyne for Continue itt every Fowr hours till itt is done or Ever you may Infuse The ounce in a quartt of wyne and take seven or eightt spoonfuls of the Clarett every fowr hours; or you may Make itt Into pills with Sirup of Gilliflowers; and take halfe a dragme of itt thatt way. Thus doe till the time your fitt is to come againe, wch iff itt stop and Leave you about eight or Ten days affter itt will be apt to Come againe then take this off fowr Doses off the powder againe. as you did Beffore.546

Moreover, examples of cinchona use in English sources traverse the entirety of

the chronological span considered by the thesis: for example KW’s eighteenth-

century English manuscript contains several receipts calling for ‘Peru bark’ and

544 James Pettifer, Hortus Peruvanius medicinalis, or, the South-Sea Herbal, (London, c.1715), pp.3 545 WL.ms.535, fol.62, Elizabeth Godfrey (and others), Receipt Book, 1686; BL.Add.ms.45718, Elizabeth Freke, miscellany, September 1684 - February 1714. 546 BL.Add.ms.45718, Elizabeth Freke, miscellany, September 1684 - February 1714.

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‘Peru bals’.547 The consistent appearance of cinchona across domestic English

sources indicates its perceived worth within Early Modern English households.

The early inclusion of instructions appended to its use indicates its novelty to

seventeenth-century authors, with precise preparation instructions deemed

necessary as this particular botanical was new to the domestic canon. In both

instances the new world plant may be seen to be of value to the old world

domestic practitioner; far from being simply a novelty item, cinchona was a

jobbing medical botanical within the domestic canon from its introduction into

the materia medica, through to the nineteenth century.

Cinchona was identified as a specific remedy in the treatment of malaria,

which was also known as the ‘ague’, and often described in terms of its most

notable symptoms: intermittent, or tertiary, fever. A receipt in Jane Dawson’s

English manuscript of the late-seventeenth-century uses Jesuit’s Bark in ‘A

Receipt for an Ague’.548 Mary Bent’s recipe ‘for an Ague’ uses only ‘Jesuits Bark

finely powdered’, while Hannah Huthwaite’s early-eighteenth-century Colonial

script contains a receipt ‘For The Ague’ instructs the reader to

Take Jesuits’ Bark 16 oz Venice Treacle Dram & half. The juice of half a Lemmon Divide these into three parts, and let the person take a Dose in a Glass of Wine for three Nights together going to Bed.549

547 WL.ms.1320/82, K.W., A Receipt Book, 1770,‘A Book of phisick. Made June 1710’ written inside front cove); Remedies calling for Peru balsom are also found in an earlier, anonymous Wellcome manuscript written in the late seventeenth-century. Peruvian balsom, or ‘bals’ comes from Myroxylon balsamum which is an entirely different plant, and far less frequently used by domestic authors than Jesuit’s bark. The combination seen here in DW’s text suggests some conflation of the two plants and their use: WL.ms.L.2, Household and Medical Recipes, c.1650-c.1750. 548 FSL.ms.V.b.14, fol.62v, Jane Dawson’s cookery book, c.1650-1699. 549 WL.ms.1127, fol..93, Mary Bent’s Receipt Book, 1664-1729; Win.ms.doc.193, unfoliated, Hannah Huthwaite’s Recipe Book, c.1720, p.70.

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Likewise, in her Colonial letter of September 7th, 1776 Abigail Adams outlines

her treatment of her son, Charles, specifying the use of ‘bark’:

Charlly is Banished yet, I keep him at his Aunt Cranch's out of the way of those who have not had the Distemper, his Arm has many Scabs upon it which are yet very soar. He is very weak and sweats a nights prodigiously. I am now giving him the Bark. He recoverd … very fast considering how ill he was. I pitty your anxiety and feel sorry that I wrote you when he was so Bad, but I knew not how it might turn with Him, had it been otherways than well, it might have proved a greater Shock than to have known that he was ill.550

The bark here almost certainly refers to cinchona, or Peruvian bark, a specific

Early Modern botanical for the treatment of malaria, which was commonly

prescribed for feverish conditions more generally.551 Indeed, K.W.’s eighteenth-

century English work includes two remedies containing cinchona aimed at the

‘Ague’; the first dictating that ‘If after ordinary Remedys, The Ague continues &

a vomit & a purge first taken, but not before, give ye Jesuis powder, as follows’,

while the second receipt ‘For an Ague’ simply stipulates ‘Take an ounce of the

Bark’.552 Abigail herself had recourse to self-prescribing the ‘Bark’ for a cold

twenty years later, writing to John 2 March 1796, noting that she has suffered

the ‘Growls &c. I hope to shake it of, for I am better of my cold, and the Bark I

have had recourse to’.553 The Adam’s family recourse to cinchona was entirely

typical of the larger domestic practice surrounding cinchona, though individual

practitioners were equally at ease in applying cinchona’s actions to other

ailments, also.

550 MHS.ms.011304, Adams Family Papers, Letter from Abigail Adams to John Adams, 8 - 10 September 1775. 551 It is possible that Adams was referring to an antipyretic botanical such as willow bark though there is little evidence that willow was used in this manner, whereas cinchona is consistently employed in treating fevers across the domestic culture. 552 WL.ms.1320, fol.96,105, K.W., A Receipt Book, 1700 (with ‘A Book of Phisick Made June 1770 written inside the front cover). 553 MHS.ms.011304, Adams Family Papers, Op.cit.

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Both Catherine Haines’ use of ‘Jesuites Bark’ in her 1776 Philadelphia

remedy ‘For the Third days ague’ as well as the Pemberton receipt for ‘Peruvian

Ale’ from late-eighteenth-century Massachusetts illustrate a variety of

application in Colonial use, for example, as does Haines’ second receipt

containing Jesuit’s Bark, that ‘To make Fluxham tincture’:

Bruised Jesuits Bark two ounces Gentian Root half ounce Orange Peal half ounce mixed.554

The ingredients in this recipe are, apart from the inclusion of gentian, identical

to those found in the Pemberton remedy for ‘Dr W. Chenning’s Peruvian Ale’:

‘Dr W.F.Charmming’s (?) Peruvian Ale’. Take of Crushed Peruvian Bark 2 oz Bitter orange peel 1 oz Boiling water 1 gallon _____ Digest in a covered vessel two hours. Then strain. _____ Then add= Brown sugar 1 lb Yeast half a cup full. _____ Keep in a moderately warm place two or three days to ferment. Then pour off (clear &) bottle. After two days it is ready for use. (If bottled too soon it will burst the bottles. If too late it will be flat.) Tie down the corks. 555

Neither of the last two of these receipts designate either use or dosage,

suggesting that, at least for these late eighteenth-century authors, the botanical

was so well known, used, and trusted, that further instructions or information

was not needed. Indeed, in comparison with Freke’s original detailed

554 APS.ms.coll.52-ead, series III: Wyck Association Collection, Reuben Haines, Box 87: Folder 2, unfoliated, Catharine Haines, Notebook, 1776. 555 MHS.ms.N-684, unfoliated, Pemberton Family Recipe Book, 1798-1888.

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instructions in England of the 1680s, these Colonial recipes show the extent to

which cinchona had become part of the established domestic canon: the early

perception of value translated into inherited practice. The placing of this

particular plant, with its well-documented effects, in the domestic culture

suggests not only that the practice was adaptive and responsive, but equally,

that it was quick to recognize remedial botanical agents in common learned use

which held practical value within the household. Unlike the North American

plants considered here which Colonial householders would have had direct

access to, Cinchona was an import from the Southern Americas, and as such

an ‘exotic’ ingredient for Anglo-American households generally.

The Beginnings of New Practices

In examining the five common botanicals, Chapter Six has further

established both the common practice and individual adaptation of the domestic

botanical culture. While old world botanicals continued to provide the majority of

medicines for domestic use across the Atlantic sphere, with an equal

dependency on them in both Early Modern English and Colonial American

households, the same is not true of the new world plants. There is correlative

practice associated with the five botanicals considered in depth here, yet these

five plants alone represent the totality of shared new world botanical practice.

Indeed, this brief list summarizes virtually the whole of American botanicals in

Anglo-American use up until the early-eighteenth-century, at which point we

begin to see a slight divergence between the English and American practices,

particularly in terms of Colonial adoption of indigenous plants.

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The recipes of Catherine Haines and Margaretta Prentis’ are of note,

particularly in suggesting an increased Ameri-centricity of botanical use

appearing in post-Colonial receipt books. Haines, for example, uses a variety of

Colonial non-botanical ingredients in her preparations, including ‘Barbados tar’,

and rum as a menstruum.556 Haines also has a clear affinity for ‘green Indian

turnip’ which she uses in recipes for ‘a Scald head’, a ‘Tetter ointment’, and a

‘Cure for a Cough’.557 She also calls for the new world botanical, ‘prickly pear’,

alongside old world belladonna, plantain and elder in her receipt ‘to make an

Oyntment’.558 Neither Indian turnip, also known as ‘bog onion’, Arisaema

triphyllum L., nor prickly pear, Opuntia spp., typically appear in English sources

suggesting that by the 1770s Colonialists are expanding their herbal repertoire,

and embracing plants from outside of the inherited Anglo-American materia

medica. Prentis likewise employed a wider range of American plants than her

earlier English and Colonial foremothers, and she used them more frequently.

For example, the last ten pages of her medical receipts contain a number of

anecdotal stories of a medical nature generally, as well as considering specific

botanical remedial agents. Of these, half contain indigenous American

botanical ingredients, including the commonly shared sassafras and

sarsaparilla, as well as adding pine, goldenrod, and apple vinegar.559 Indeed, a

number of the plants found in Prentis’ manuscript appear to be unique to an

emerging American domestic practice, in a similar vein to Haine’s use of Indian

turnip and prickly pear. For example, Prentis’ use of golderod in her ‘Dropsy’

556 APS.ms.coll.52-ead, series III: Wyck Association Collection, Reuben Haines, Box 87: Folder 2, unfoliated, Catharine Haines’ Notebook, 1776. ‘Barbadoes tarr’ is specified, for example, in a recipe ‘for a bad cough’. 557 IBID. 558 IBID. 559 UP.ms.5034.4, Margaretta Prentis’ Cookery and Medical Recipes,1780s. (There is a recipe dated 1788 on the end page).

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remedy is unprecedented, as is the recommendation of ‘ripe Poke Berries’ in

the treatment of ‘Gout or Rheumertism’.560 Both authors are here differentiating

the materia medica in a way which is atypical of the shared domestic culture.

While individual authors have typically employed that common canon in a great

variety of ways, the list of plants itself, prior to this point in the practice, has

remained consistant.

Furthermore, Prentis’ ‘Americanization’ of the common inherited Anglo

practice may also often be seen in her choice of old world herbs. For example,

her recipe for ‘the famous Thieves Vinegar which proved a preventative to the

Plague in London in 1665’ contains a list of herbs similar to those found in the

older ‘water’ recipes, minus the hard exotic spices: ‘Take of Wormwood, Thyme,

Rosemary, Lavender, Sage Rue, & Mint each a handful’.561 Prentis is taking an

established recipe, omitting expensive imports, and using only those botanicals

which she can either grow herself, or purchase from local, Colonial, sources.

Although Prentis does elsewhere advocate the use of imported raw material in

other recipes, as in her recipe ‘for disordered bowels’ combining nutmeg with

laudanum, this adaptation of a ‘common’ recipe, the ‘famous Thieves Vinegar’,

is notable in its adaptation to meet Colonial household needs. Not only do we

see a move away from the time-consuming Early Modern practice of distillation

to the altogether cheaper, easier, faster, and perhaps more effective (at least in

terms of preservation) use of vinegar as a substrate menstruum, but the

560 UP.ms.5034.3, unfoliated, Margaretta Prentis Cookery and Medical Recipes, 1780s, p.28 ‘Poke Berries’ refers to Phytolacca Americana, a strong lymphatic and sympathomimetic agent (it stimulates the sympathetic response, inducing a physiological ‘fight or flight’ reaction). It is a ‘Schedule Three’ herb and current European legislation allows if use by practitioners’ only. 561 UP.ms.5034.2, unfoliated, Margaretta Prentis’ Cookery and Medical Recipes,1780s, pp.23, 24.

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recipe’s focus on plants which can be grown domestically would have reduced

cost, and diminished Prentis’ dependency on old world suppliers562 Indeed, the

preference for Colonially derived goods in terms of medical botanicals mimics

larger concurrent colonial social and political boycotting of taxed, imported

goods in the colonies.563

Nor were Haines and Prentis unusual in their colonial adaption; rather

there seems to be a clear trend towards a preference for the use of both

atypical old world plants and indigenous plants across the American sources

towards the end of the eighteenth-century. For example, ‘shoemack’, Jamaican

dogwood, snakeroot, jimsonweed (James’ town weed), pinkroot, and

pokeweed, are some of the many indigenous plants cited widely by eighteenth-

century Colonial sources.564 The sudden broadening out of the Colonial canon

of herbs seen in these sources suggests broad cultural, as well as domestic,

adaptation, reflecting a ‘greater needs must’ approach to the canon which was

dictated by external social and political changes. Yet while there clearly was a

growing eighteenth-century Colonial interest in the use of indigenous plants

medically, the overwhelming evidence in the majority of domestic, and

vernacular, sources, points to an almost entirely shared Anglo-American

562 UP..ms.5034.4, unfoliated, Margaretta Prentis’s Cookery and Medical Receipes, p.15. 563 A large body of scholarship tracing colonial American responses to British taxation exists. Cf. Benjamin L. Carp, Chapter 1, Defiance of the Patriots: The Boston Tea Party and the Making of America (Connecticut: Yale University Press, 2010); Raphael, Ray, Founding Myths: Stories That Hide Our Patriotic Past. (New York: The New Press, 2004); Peter D.G. Thomas, The Townshend Duties Crisis: The Second Phase of the American Revolution, 1767–1773, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1987); Peter D.G. Thomas, Tea Party to Independence: The Third Phase of the American Revolution, 1773–1776, (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991). 564 Cf. Kay K. Moss, Southern Folk Medicine, 1750-1820 (University of South Carolina Press, 1999): Sumac, Rhus glabra, pp.77, 101, 104, 110, 132,207; dogwood, Piscidia erythrema, references pp.52, 71, 101, 104, 121, 181-182; snakeroot, Ageratina altissima, , references pp.50, 126, 138, 205-206; jimsonweed, Datura stramonium, references pp.100, 190; pinkroot, Spigelia marilandica, references pp.13, 77-78, 199; and pokeweed, Phytolacca decandra, references pp.100-101, 200.

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domestic materia medica prior to this point, in both shared lists containing a

presumptive framework of old world plants with the inclusion of a very few,

extremely pharmacologically active, new world plants, and in common

preparation and application of botanicals. While ‘adaptation in continuity’ was a

clear hallmark of the shared domestic culture across the entirely of its span, the

American changes to the basic, shared list of medical plants indicated a

fundamental and substantial shift in practice, and one which in effect produced

two linked, but differing, botanical cultures moving into the nineteenth-century.

By incorporating a wealth of new plants, and utilizing existing plants and recipes

in new ways, the Americans effectively displace the continuous, communal

nature of the shared practice. In effect, this was more a politico-cultural

statement about larger inherited ways of doing things than it was an extreme

expression of domestic adaptability.

In looking at five key new world botanicals, sassafras, sarsaparilla,

lignum vitae, cinchona, and tobacco, Chapter Six has further solidified the basic

nature and the extent of the common Anglo-American domestic botanical

culture. Each of these plants existed as a distinct entity throughout the whole of

the practice, appearing in scribal evidence of the canon from the outset of its

establishment, and remaining in use as the Empire expanded, taking the

domestic botanical culture with it. Elite routes of knowledge and transmission,

along with vernacular dissemination, first enabled the use of these plants across

the domestic practice, yet by tracing the underlying familial and communal

nature of domestic medical practices that Chapter Six has discovered individual

instances of differentiation in plant use. Further, the appearance of new

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indigenous plants into the materia medica of Colonial texts in the eighteenth-

century is suggestive of a fundamental differentiation in the practice which

heralded the end of the entirely inherited, communal culture. Broader socio-

political upheavals in trans-Atlantic Anglo-American culture are clearly reflected

in the domestic botanical sources, with a growing sense of indigenous plant use

and self-reliance in Colonial texts. This is of particular note as it demarcates the

end of the domestic botanical culture as a single entity, with Colonial practices

beginning to look increasingly to new world plants and practices in response to

domestic medical demands.

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Conclusion

In examining Anglo-American use of botanical medicines, the thesis has

established the basic skeleton of an Early Modern English, and Colonial

American, domestic culture, outlining its determining characteristics, its typical

use, and methods of its transmission. This overview of the Anglo-American

perception, production, and employment of plant medicines has addressed five

primary areas: it established a common domestic practice which employed

herbal medicines and it examined the role of oral, scribal, and print cultures in

transmitting the knowledge of botanicals across domestic use. It further

considered the typically atheoretical application of household approaches to the

prescribing of botanicals; it focused on the shared body of herbal agents

themselves; and it outlined the flexible approach of individual households in

employing those medicines. By reading widely across domestic and vernacular

sources the thesis has not only established the parameters of this domestic

botanical culture as distinct from popular and learned medical cultures, but it

has also identified emerging schisms in that shared domestic botanical culture

which reflected larger cultural and political changes in trans-Atlantic Anglo-

American society.

The thesis consists of two parts: the first three Chapters were largely

concerned with establishing the criteria, boundaries, and defining characteristics

of a shared domestic botanical culture, and the last three ’fleshed out’ that

culture, examining its communal aspects and individualized expression across

trans-Atlantic Anglo-American domestic sources. In the first instance, the thesis

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established a communal Anglo-American domestic botanical practice with

certain traits: this domestic culture had a composite origin which reflected its

adaptive nature. It largely lacked any underlying theory or dogma, allowing for a

high degree of flexibility for individual practitioners and households. It was

typically practiced and disseminated by women, with a greater proportion of

male Colonial authors reflecting differences in Anglo and American domestic

demographics. Finally, it was built around a common, shared materia medica

which consisted of an inherited body of old world herbs, with few new botanicals

entering the canon, but with those few being universally adopted by the

common practice. Typically, the culture as a whole was responsive to both

community need and individual household circumstances.

Much of the work looking at transmission of the domestic botanical

culture is relatively nebulous and ephemeral as a result of attempting to reclaim

oral traditions by reading historical script and printed sources. It has been

important to attempt to trace this process as far as possible, as common sense

dictates that oral transmission facilitated this, and many other, domestic

practices. ‘Common sense’ in this instance is borne of experience and

observation: communication and learning within the home occurred on a daily

basis, with the bulk of this communication and learning occurring orally. There

is no doubt that people were working with botanical medicines within their

homes, and as speech is the typical method of communication within the home,

it follows that we suppose this to be the foundation of household information

transmission. Moreover, we see vestiges of this oral culture in scribal evidence.

In some of the American sources we see direct reference to the oral

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transference of medical information in the ‘telling of stories’, with individuals

writing letters and journals relating their neighbours’ and acquaintances’

experiences, both with ailments, and with the use of botanicals in the treatment

of those ailments. Earlier, more formal, receipt books lack the narrative of

remedies seen in American sources, but often adopt a ‘shorthand’ approach to

the type and the manner of information presented. These receipts commonly

omitted the purpose of a particular remedy, or failed to spell out in precise detail

the manner in which it was to be prepared, and so on. This brevity speaks to an

assumption of pre-extant competency and familiarity not communicated (or

needed to be communicated) by the script: it presumed an existing level of

communication which has not been written down. This oral nature of the

domestic culture is one of its hallmark characteristics: it illustrates the

commonness of the practice, its domesticity and familiarity, and also to its

adaptable nature. From this awareness of the oral nature of the practice’s

origins we can solidify our assumptions about the prevalence of the whole

culture: not only does the wealth of receipt books, letters, journals, and

inventory artefacts speak to the practice as a common, going concern, but the

likely oralness of its nature speaks to gaps in the evidence. Just as we know

that all households were cooking and consuming food despite there being no

direct evidence in the form of culinary recipes from each of them, we may

assume that the making and administering of medicines, often perceived as a

nutritive exercise as much as a remedial one, also occurred across households.

The bulk of extant scribal domestic transmission evidence serves to

highlight the flexible, personal nature of the culture. The plants and their

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containing recipes found in receipt books, journals and letters in no way reflect

a static tradition. Rather they showcase the multitude of ways in which the

authors of differing sources have altered and adjusted which plants from the

common materia medica are used in recipes, along with ratios and preparation

methods, all speaking to individual competency in wielding a familiar, communal

body of knowledge. The origins of the culture in oral practice are one of its

fundamental characteristics, as is its expression in scribal sources. Unlike the

set information found in print sources, the ability for individual expression

afforded by scribal communication is key to the practice’s flexible nature. This

scribal transmission in effect took an adaptive, communal, oral culture and

allowed for individual expression of both authority and agency in using plants as

medicines. While the individual herbs taken from the shared canon may have

differed between authors and remedies, and the amount and degree of

instructional information likewise varied, there is a recognizable pattern to much

of the scribal expression of the common culture. Moreover, this structure was so

pervasive and familiar to householders that it was adopted by vernacular

authors, particularly in the ‘home physitians’. Similarly, individual recipes may

be seen to travel a circuitous route into print from domestic sources, and back

out. Clearly the domestic culture was not only tied to larger social practices and

norms, but it both had an important impact on these, and, perhaps to a growing

degree over time for the majority of households, was influenced by them. The

strength of this domestic body of scribal evidence lies not only in its ability to

reconstruct the culture in providing a direct platform for authors, but in its

illustration of a ‘best practice’ approach adopted across the culture. The highly

flexible, responsive, and shared nature of the culture meant that individual

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approbation of these medicines is quickly shared, with individual practitioners

then further adapting the inherited practice to suit their own needs and

resources. ‘Best practice’ here is itself flexible and reactive.

In tracing complex dissemination routes and content, the thesis has

established that the transmission, reception, and mutable makeup of the

domestic culture exemplify what might be termed a ‘bricolage’ practice, derived

from multiple sources and made up of a multitude of individual practices which

combine to form a cohesive whole. This bricolage nature is apparent in the

composite make-up, not only of the transmission routes, but in the varied

individualized practices employing plants typical of the domestic culture.

Further, the thesis has defined the domestic culture in relation to public, learned

medical practice of the period, outlining the first as a ‘little’ tradition running

concurrently, and in dialogue with, the ‘great’ professional practice. Instances of

exchange between the two have been considered, with the thesis providing

examples where knowledge disseminated in learned printed text was predated

by similar use in older, scribal domestic sources, thus adding to that body of

scholarship which has already identified appropriation of the learned culture into

the domestic sphere.

One of the most important differentiating aspects of the domestic culture

in terms of identifying it as a ‘little’ body of knowledge and practice distinct from

learned medicine is the question of an underpinning theoretical rationale. With a

very few exceptions, domestic authors did not tie botanicals to intellectual

frameworks, unlike the learned writing and medical practice which typically

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prefaced remedial agents in theoretical terms (particularly humoral or

astrological). The domestic culture may be largely defined in terms of a

practical application of botanical medicines to given sets of symptoms with a

simple remedial intention. Moreover, this practical, atheoretical approach seems

to have, at least in some instances, influenced public, and learned, discourses.

Far from being a pale copy of professional medical practice of the period, the

domestic knowledge and use of botanical medicines in Early Modern England

and Colonial America was in many ways unique, valid, influential, and

pervasive.

A high degree of common domestic familiarity, competency, and

confidence in using plant material medically may be read in sources from a

range of Anglo-American homes. This speaks to both householders’ skill in

treating medical conditions, and even more importantly for this work, their

knowledge of, and experience with, both producing, and administering complex

botanical medicines. The underlying willingness to treat various medical

complaints relates to the botanical culture in that it speaks to the proficiency in

both designing and wielding botanical medicines on the part of the culture’s

authors. It is both this familiarity with plants, their preparation, administration,

and continued observation of their action on the body, and a willingness and

ability to address ailments within the home that provided a basis and rationale

for the botanical culture as a whole. Both ‘authority’, householders’ confidence

and surety in applying knowledge of botanicals to ailments, and ‘agency’, the

wealth of practical skills underlying both the production and the administration of

those medicines, are, likewise, fundamental aspects of the domestic culture.

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This culture was the expression of a common domestic need, and also of a

substantial body of knowledge and practice.

The case studies looked at in depth by the thesis collectively illustrate

reminder of the flexible constancy of the culture as a whole. They highlight the

shared domestic canon of herbs, showing continuity and consistency in

domestic access to, and application of, the inherited body of plant material used

medicinally within Anglo-American homes, while equally illustrating the highly

adaptive nature of individual’s work with these plants. Individually, the case

studies highlight differing aspects of the established culture. Domestic

treatments of rose, for example, may be seen to highlight practitioners’ agency

and competency in working with sensitive plant material intelligently, while the

common use of elder speaks to questions of authority in observing efficacy of

botanicals as remedial agents, and the widespread use of spices illustrates the

domestic practice’s situation within a wider, indeed global, trans-Atlantic context

and practice. The domestic materia medica differed from the learned canon in

being largely proscriptive; that is to say, it was not as reactive to the introduction

of new medicines, particularly mineral and chemical medicines, as learned

cultures. Yet it was adaptable enough to embrace a very few botanicals

perceived to be of particular value, as seen in the five new world case studies.

Both individually and collectively the old world case studies considered by the

thesis highlight the consistency and adaptability of the domestic botanical

culture. Moreover, they reflect an individual experience and aptitude on the part

of authors which fed into and collectively constituted the body and spirit of the

cultural practice.

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In turning to examine the five new world botanicals found within the

shared culture, the thesis has further traced the complexity of transmission

routes impacting on the domestic practice, as well more fully fleshing out that

range of individualized practices fundamental to the culture’s definition. A

shared new world materia medica consisting solely of guaiac wood, sassafras,

sarsaparilla, tobacco and cinchona existed in domestic sources on either side of

the Atlantic from the sixteenth through to the eighteen centuries. That these five

plants, and only these five plants, are typically found across sources on either

side of the Atlantic further establishes this as a shared Anglo-American culture

whereby colonial housewives employed a canon of both old and new world

herbs identical to that of their English sisters. Further, examination of these few

new world botanicals demonstrated instances of individual adaption of the

materia medica typical of the broader trans-Atlantic domestic culture. Finally, in

turning to consider the eighteenth-century inclusion of indigenous plants within

Colonial household manuscripts, the thesis has established evidence of a

fundamental differentiation in the practice which heralded the end of the entirely

inherited, communal culture. The willingness of eighteenth-century colonialists

to employ a range of indigenous plants using new menstruums indicates the

beginning of a divergent culture, equally reflective of, and sensitive to, the

broader cultural and social norms and needs in which it rested.

It is in tracing botanical use across domestic sources that the thesis has

been able to identify an emergent American domestic culture which reflected,

and ran concurrent with, greater Anglo-American socio-political schisms. This

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developing culture differed from the inherited Early Modern English and Colonial

American culture in a number of important ways, primary of which was the

embrace of many new indigenous plants into its working materia medica.

Ancillary to this, the American culture replaced base ingredients with alternative

new world resources, as seen in the case of complex polypharmaceutical

menstruums being eschewed in recipes which use rum instead. Further, this

substitution of menstruum base by the nascent culture reflects a growing

emphasis on the use of simples more generally, with complex formulae often

being replaced by either single herb remedies, or combination formulations with

material from fewer than five plants in each. This evolving American practice

reflects the prior communal tradition’s key adaptability to both resource

availability and to individual need, as well as reflecting a similar relationship to

oral, scribal, and print transmission cultures, and as such is clearly a

development of the preceding practice. Its amended list of herbs, combined

with changes to the basic methods and of preparation, however, speaks to a

break with the Anglo-derived practice, and heralds an increasing divergence in

individual and community application of the domestic cultures.

Analysing Methodologies

There are two primary issues arising from the lack of parity between

English and American resources. A disparity exists in the body of sources

consulted by the thesis, with a far greater number of English receipt books

available than their American counterparts. Equally, ingress into the Colonial

practice has relied more heavily on other scribal sources than the English body

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of work, notably journals and letters. This reflects the catalogued material to be

found in archives, which most likely reflects trends in trans-Atlantic archiving as

much as it does historical practices. By embracing the range of sources,

however, the thesis has been able to establish that a virtually identical body of

herbs was largely employed by households across the span of the Anglo-

American culture, both in terms of old and new world botanicals; that the means

of method of preparing those herbs remained largely unchanged; and that the

illnesses addressed were entirely similar. So, while considerably more attention

to ferreting out and comparing resources remains to be done, examination of

what is now available suggests parity of practice in the case of old world herbs,

and in the use of those new world herbs first adopted into the European canon.

Equally, what has emerged from these sources is evidence that mid-eighteenth-

century North American households included a far broader range of indigenous

herbs, both singly, and in combination, than their English counterparts.

Secondly, reading this broad, and disparate, group of sources as a single

‘body’ representative of domestic Anglo-American practice not only reflects a

lack of parity in terms of sheer numbers, but also the differences in authorship,

format, and use of convention. Typically, the English remedy sources have

female authorship, consist of receipt books, and follow a conventional ‘recipe’

format: list of ingredients followed by preparation instructions. Information on

American domestic botanical usage, however, is derived from a diverse range

of receipt books, journals, letters, and almanac marginalia, and while authorship

here remains predominantly female, particularly for those receipt books from the

southern colonies, there is a far higher proportion of lay males voices

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represented also. Disparities observed in the influence of printed information on

domestic receipts, particularly in the case of Colonial works, might have been

visible in the English case too, had a commensurate set of sources been

available for study. On the strength of the evidence available, however, the

directional relationship of influence between printed texts and the domestic

culture appears to indicate an increasing degree of household reference to, and

dependency on, printed authority towards the end of the period considered here

across both Anglo and American households. A clear correlation between

increased broad social access to, and reliance on, print, household recourse to

printed medical texts, and the decline of a distinct domestic culture may be read

into the evidence viewed here, though far more study is needed in this area.

Other areas for future study arising from the thesis are concerned with

the identification and specification of botanical medicines as remedial agents,

assessment of the domestic culture in particular instances, and examination of

how botanical medical cultures developed into the nineteenth and early

twentieth centuries. The first of these would be well served by a comprehensive

index of Early Modern and Colonial botanical medicines produced as a

reference work for medical historians who wish to access current thinking and

understanding of historical medicines. In the course of research for this thesis,

it has become apparent that much of current scholarship makes presumptions

about historical medicines that are incorrect and outdated. Plants and plant

actions are commonly conflated with each other across the scholarship, so that

the entire historical botanical canon becomes a reflection on quackery or quaint,

ineffective remedial prescribing. A scholarly attempt to access and evaluate

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these medicines, using methodology from current work in the fields of botany

and pharmacognosy would go some considerable way towards addressing

this.565 Re-evaluation of specific prescribing trends and practices, in turn, would

better our understanding of the medical practice as a whole, and its place

within, and impact on, wider social and cultural trends.

Furthermore, future scholarship looking to elaborate our understanding of

what the domestic botanical culture was, its commonality, and how it was

applied, would do well to focus on individual authors, not because they

(atypically) illustrate contemporary learned thought as considered in a wealth of

excellent scholarship ranging from Linda Pollack to Elaine Leong’s writing, but

rather because they exemplify the atheoretical domestic practice.566 Annotated

reproductions of household manuscripts such as Elizabeth Jacob‘s Tudor

receipt book would provide an excellent illustrative example of Early Modern

English domestic botanical culture, placing the practice into a clear domestic

context. 567 American contributions to the culture could be similarly exampled;

for example, Karen Hess’s annotated monograph of Martha Washington’s

Booke of Sweetmeats might also be fruitfully revisited as an example of the

prevailing domestic culture. 568 Re-examination of the original authors and the

565 Pharmacognosy is the field of study specifically concerned with the physiological action of medical plants on the human body, as opposed to pharmacology which studies drugs more generally. 566 Cf. Linda Pollock, With Faith in Physic, The life of a Tudor Gentlewoman. Lady Grace Mildmay 1552-1620. (London; Collins and Brown, 1993); Elaine Leong, ’Making Medicines in the Early Modern Household‘, Bulletin History of Medicine, 82 (2008), 82: 145-168. 567 WC.ms.3009/16, Elizabeth Jacob, (& others), physicall and chyrurgicall receipts. Cookery and preserves, 1590-c.1685. 568 Karen Hess, ed., Martha Washington’s Booke of Cookery & Booke of Sweetmeats, (New York: Columbia University Press, 1995). In her excellent examination of Washington’s medical recipes, Hess has referenced common learned theory in her notes, where Washington does not. While this serves to place the domestic practice within a broader cultural context, it does not help elucidate the domestic culture itself

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botanical cultures which they produced in light of its own defining

characteristics, rather than those of the learned culture, would, alongside re-

evaluation of the botanicals themselves, further our understanding, and

appreciation, for this key form of medical provisioning.

The final research strand to emerge from the thesis is concerned with

examining the Anglo-American use of botanical medicines and botanical

medical culture across the nineteenth- and into the beginnings of the twentieth-

centuries. This field of inquiry, particularly as it relates to the emergent

American botanical culture, is extremely rich. Many of the new botanical

movements seen across this period (not only American, or even Anglo-

American, but, equally, French and German), may be considered in relation to

their debt to the earlier domestic culture, as well as in light of their relationship

to popular philosophical and cultural movements of the day. In terms of

American botanical cultures alone, focusing on plant medicines and their use by

irregular schools of herbal medicine such as the Physiomedicalists and

Eclectics in the nineteenth century would greatly add to a field scholarship

which has to date primarily focused on the socio-political history of competing

medical systems.

By looking at a broad chronological and geographical field, the thesis has

established meaningful comparisons and traced commonalities of botanical

usage as well as identifying emerging differences in the Anglo-American

materia medica. Repeatedly, the authors of the domestic culture are seen to

have taken on board the experience of working with a particular plant, or plant-

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based medicine, observing, reflecting, and noting the effects which each has on

the patient in a variety of circumstances, before then sharing this individual

experience with family and friends, thus contributing back to the larger culture.

Indeed, this cycle of broad culture and individual practice speaks again to the

ability of the culture to work flexibly, and communally. In eschewing dogmatic

categorization of botanicals, domestic authors, even in their personal

individualization of agency and application, demonstrated shared practice and

experience. In tracing their writings and practice, the thesis has outlined the

scope and voice of a shared, domestic Anglo-American culture, as well as

identified a new, emergent, Colonial voice. Ultimately, the ability of domestic

practitioners to both adopt new herbs, and then to adapt them to the existing

practice, reflects both the role, and the importance, of the individual within a

broader domestic botanical culture. In eschewing dogmatic categorization of

botanicals, domestic authors, even in their personal individualization of agency

and application, demonstrated shared practice and experience. Ultimately, their

ability to both adopt new herbs, and then adapt them to the existing practice,

reflects both the use, and the importance, of plant medicines to both individual

practitioners, and for the broader domestic culture. In tracing botanicals via the

writings and practice of domestic authors, the thesis has outlined the scope and

voice of a shared, domestic Anglo-American culture, as well as identified a new,

emergent, colonial voice.

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Glossary

Antilithic A medicine used in the treatment (both the dissolution and the prevention) of calculi (kidney stones).

Antimony A highly toxic salt used in historical medicines.

Antipruritic Anti-itch.

Aromatick Any highly scented plant used in medicines, though these also appeared in culinary recipes as well as in wider household use (i.e. in pomanders).

Botanical Pertaining to either a specific plant, or to a plant-based medicine.

Carminative A medicine which reduces or helps to expel gas from the stomach and intestines.

Compounds Mixtures comprised of material from many different (plant or other) sources.

Cordial A liquid medicine to be drunk, often considered stimulating, or ‘bracing’, although medical cordials may equally have soothing properties, as is the case with many aperitifs which act as carminative stomachics, calming the gastro-intestinal system.

Diacodium Also ‘diacodion’. Syrup of poppy (typically made from the opium poppy, Papaver somniferens).

Diamber A cordial stomachic medicine containing aromatic material from both animals, such as ambergris and musk, and plants, such as rosemary, lavender, and thyme.

Decoction A preparation made by steeping or soaking plant material in a hot liquid, typically water, in order to extract any water soluble constituents.

Distillate The product of distillation. Typically Early Modern and Colonial households prized the aromatic water portion of distillates, often throwing out the volatile oil portion, though this varied across households and manuscript sources.

Dropsy Oedema.

Diuresis Increased production of urine.

Electuary A medicinal paste made by mixing a powdered substance with

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honey or syrup. Also known as a ‘lectuary’ or ‘lecturey’.

Expectorant A medicine which both loosens and promotes the expectoration of mucus or phlegm from the respiratory system.

Glister Also ‘clyster’. A type of enema using a plunger mechanism and syringe to deliver the liquid into the rectum.

Macerate v. To steep or soak (in order to both soften the plant material, and to aid in extraction of plant constituents, typically using a cold liquid as opposed to a hot liquid decoction). n. The liquid resulting from the maceration of plant, or other, material.

Materia medica

A collected body of medical agents; commonly used to describe herbal and homoeopathic formulary. The term refers equally to books which contain these lists of medical agents, and to the corpus of agents themselves. Thus materia medica may refer to a book, or type of book, as in ‘she consulted Bartram’s materia medica’, or to a specific body of medicines, as in ‘thyme is well established member of the European materia medica’.

Menstruum The holding, base liquid for a medical preparation. Often considered inert, the menstruum certainly affected the botanical’s action indirectly (for example, in terms of its action in extracting and preserving plant molecules) and directly (for example, the alcohol content alone in certain remedies would have had an effect on the nervous system if taken in quantity).

Nephroliphic A medicine for the treatment of kidney stones.

Pleural Also ‘pleurifical’. Pertaining to the lungs (in reference to the pleura which line the cavity containing the lungs).

Polychrest A ‘cure all’ medicine that may be widely applied to any number, or all, diseases.

Polypharmacy A medicine made containing many ingredients, typically ten or more.

Receipt Recipe.

Rubefacient A topical medicine containing irritant, inflammatory ingredients which, when applied, stimulates localized blood flow.

Simple A medicine made from a single raw ingredient, ‘simples’ are made from single plants in herbal preparations.

Stilliard Also ‘steelyard’. A portable ‘table top’ scale for measuring domestic quantities of goods.

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Stomachic A medicine which soothes the stomach.

Sudorific A medicine which promotes sweating.

Surfeit water A liquid medicine often used to treat indigestion which is generally made from a combination of floral waters (hydrolats).

Sympathetic Mutually supportive, synergistic agents.

Topical A medicine that is applied externally, to a particular area of the body.

Unguent A topical agent, a salve, cream, or ointment.

Vermifuge A medicine which kills, or expels, intestinal worms.

Vollital An unstable liquid medicine which evaporates on contact with air.

Vulnerary From the latin ‘vulnus’, meaning ‘wound’; a vulnerary is a medicine which aids in the healing of wounds and restoration of healthy tissue.

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Appendix 1a

BL.Add.ms.57944, f.10r, Mary Glover’s culinary and recipe books, 1688.

Appendix 1b

BL.Add.ms.57944, f.151v, Mary Glover’s culinary and recipe books, 1688.

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Appendix 2a

FSL.ms. W.a.332, unfoliated, Ann Goodenough’s cookery book, 1700-1775 frontpage & p.95.

FSL.ms. W.a.332, unfoliated, Ann Goodenough’s cookery book, 1700-1775 ‘ the duchess of somersetts hog hoof powder good against the gravel’, p.98

Appendix 2b

FSL.ms. W.a.332, unfol., Ann Goodenough’s cookery book, 1700-1775, pp.115, 137.

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American Philosophical Society, Philadelphia

MS.coll.52-ead, series III: Wyck Association Collection, Reuben Haines, Box 87: Folder 2, Catharine Haines’ Notebook, 1776.

Archives of the Moravian Church in America, Winston -Salem, North Carolina

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Bodleian Library, Oxford

MSS Aubrey 1 and 2, John Aubrey, Naturall Historie of Wiltshire, c.1690-91.

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British Library

Add.MS.27466, Mary Doggett, Her Booke of Receipts, 1604.

Add.MS.45196, Anne Glydd’s Receipt Book, 1656-1700.

Add.MS.45197, f.68-69, Anne Brockman, medical receipt book, n.d.

Add.MS.45199, Elizabeth Brockman, receipts and exercises, 1674-(?)1687.

Add.MS.45718, Elizabeth Freke, miscellany, September 1684 - February 1714.

Add.MS.5624, Lady Mary Dacres,’s Receipt book, 1666-1696.

350

Add.MS.57944, Mary Glover’s Culinary and Recipe Books, 1688.

Egerton.MS.G2197, Elizabeth Digby, receipts of Elizabeth Digby, 1650.

Egerton.MS.G2214, Katherine Davies’ Medical and Cookery Receipts, n.d.

Lansdowne MS. 231. John Aubrey, ‘Remains of Gentilisme and Judaise’, fo.103r.

Sloane.MS.1367, Lady Ranelagh’s Medical Receipts, 1600-1699.

Sloane.MS.2485, Margaret Baker’s Receipt Book in Two Parts, 1652.

Sloane.MS.556, Lady Marquess Dorset, (transcribed by Anthony Lewis), Book, 1696.

The College of Physicians, Philadelphia

MS.168289.Class 20e.No.352. Elizabeth Coates Paschall’s Receipt Book (1702-1753).

Colonial Williamsburg Archives, Williamsburg, Virgi na

ms.86.10, Francis Nicholson Papers, ‘Elizabeth Savage letter to Francis Nicholson, 26. January [1696/7]’ London.

ms.91.06, Peyton Randolph Papers, Maria Randolph ‘letter to "Betsey", February 27’.

Probate Inventories:

Henry Bowcock’s Probate Inventory, March 16, 1730

John Camp’s Probate Inventory, March 19, 1774

Thomas Collier’s Probate Inventory, June 19, 1705

Robert Davidson’s Probate Inventory, March 17, 1740

Thomas Dennett’s Probate Inventory, September 8, 1673

Henry Freeman Junior’s Probate Inventory, May 13, 1676

Sarah Green,’s Probate Inventory, April 1, 1759

Henry Hacker’s Probate Inventory, February 21, 1743

351

Thomas Hornsby’s Probate Inventory, August 4, 1773

Francis Howard’s Probate Inventory, May 16, 1748

Matthew Hubard’s Probate Inventory, March 16, 1747

William Hunter’s Probate Inventory, August 24, 1761

Joseph Man’s Probate Inventory, December 30, 1703

James Mitchell’s Probate Inventory, July 20, 1772

Giles Moody’s Probate Inventory, January 16, 1730

Ishmael Moody’s Probate Inventory, January 16, 1749

General Thomas Nelson’s Probate Inventory, April 27, 1789

Hugh Nelson’s Probate Inventory, January 28, 1800

John Pasquet’s Probate Inventory, March 4, 1762

William Pattison’s Probate Inventory, April 8, 1703.

Thomas Pinkethman’s Probate Inventory, February 6, 1679

Betty Pope’s Probate Inventory, June 21, 1796

Edward Powers’s Probate Inventory, July 4, 1719

William Prentis’s October 19, 1765

Joseph Ring’s July 5, 1704

Mary Ripping’s Probate Inventory, February 18, 1745

Colonel John Scasbrooke’s Probate Inventory, May 2, 1679

James Shields’s Probate Inventory, January 21, 1751

Matthew Shields’s Probate Inventory, June 25, 1766

Edmund Tabb’s Probate Inventory, April 10, 1762

John Trotter’s Probate Inventory, June 15, 1745

Joseph Walker’s Probate Inventory, September 2, 1724

William Waller’s Probate Inventory, April 27, 1799

William Waters’s Probate Inventory, August 21, 1769

George Wells’s Probate Inventory, May 20, 1754

352

Henry Wetherburn’s Probate Inventory, December 19, 1760

James Whaley’s Probate Inventory, October 1, 1701

Derbyshire Record Office, Matlock, Derbyshire

D770/C/EZ/394, Jane Mosley’s Recipe Book, c.1669.

Folger Shakespeare Library, Washington D.C.

a.940, Lady Grace Castleton’s Cookery & Medical Receipt Book, c.1600-1699.

V.a.20, Constance Hall’s Receipt Book, 1672.

V.a.215, Susanna Packe, Her Book (of Receipts), 1674.

V.a.347, Dorothy Philips, A Sermon Booke, (sermons, receipts and family records), 1616-1617.

V.a.387 Katherine Packer’s Boocke of Very Good medicines, 1639.

V.a.388, Mary Carlyon’s Medical Receipt Book, c.1660.

V.a.396 Penelope Jephson Patrick’s Receipt Book, 1671-1675.

V.a.397, Katherine Brown’s Receipt Book, c.1650-1662.

V.a.425, Sarah Longe’s Receipt Book, n.d.

V.a.429, Rose Kendell, et all, cookery and medical receipt book. One of the front pages is marked ’Rose Kendell & Ann Cater there Book‘, 1682, while two pages on is written ’Anna-Maria Wentworth, Her Book, 1725’.

V.a.430, Mary Granville, and Anne Granville Dewes’s Receipt Book, 1740.

V.a.450(1), Lettice Pudsey’s Receipt Book, c.1675.

V.a.456 Mary Baumfylde and Catherine Thatcher’s medical, cookery receipt book and verses, 1626, 1707.

V.a.468, Elizabeth Fowler, Her Book, (cookery book also containing medical receipts, sermons, a hymn and a poem), 1684.

V.a.7, Jane Buckhurst’s Medical Receipt Book, 1653.

V.a.931, Mary Hookes’s Cookery Book, c.1675-1725.

V.b.14, Jane Dawson’s Cookery Book, c.1650-1699.

353

V.b.301, Grace (Blome) Randolph’s Cookery Book (‘Randolph receipt book’), 1697.

W.a.113, Elizabeth Langley, Cookbook of Elizabeth Langley, c.1757, (includes some household and medical recipes).

W.a.136, Elizabeth Smith, Receipt Book of Elizabeth Smith, 1749-c.1800; 1 item, 13-44, 47-92, 95-124, 127-156p. Some pages missing. Note on front pastedownL [G?] etsey, Miss Getsey Smith’s Book 1749, In the Nunnery E.C. wrote this. Signature in pencil on back pastedown: ’Elizabeth Smith.’ Includes index. ( G.C. Goodwin MS.) Scope and content: Includes a few household recipes on p. 148. In several different hands.

W.a.311, Mrs Johnston’s Cookery Book, c.1700.

W.a.332, Ann Goodenough’s Cookery Book, 1700-1775.

W.b.79, (MS Add 412) Mrs, Knight, Mrs. Knight’s receipt book [manuscript], 1740; 1 v. Notes: Collation: [2] 74, 77-80, 87-102 p. Scope and content: One group of cookery and household recipes, and another of medical recipes, each with its own index at the end of the volume. Includes plans and instructions for laying the table, p. 50-51; lists of foods in season, p. 53, and a medical recipe from Connecticut, p. 77, 1740.

X.d.24, Mary Cruso’s Receipt Book, 1689.

X.d.457 (1-19) V.a.401, Jane & Henrietta (?) Stavely, and (later) Elizabeth Hanson’s Receipt Book, 1643-1694; 1857.

Friends Historical Library of Swarthmore College, S warthmore, Pennsylvania

Palmer Family Papers.RG 5/111, Sarah Fell’s Household Account Book, 1673-1678.

Historical Society of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia

(Phi)Am.530.3.a., Washington Family Papers, Martha Washington, Booke of cookery and booke of sweetmeats : being a family manuscript, curiously copied by an unknown hand sometime in the seventeenth century, which was in her keeping from 1749, the time of her marriage to Daniel Custis, to 1799, at which time she gave it to Eleanor Parke Custis, her granddaughter, on the occasion of her marriage to Lawrence Lewis. (1749-1799).

Lambeth Palace Library, London

354

MS.651 fol. 206: Anne Bacon, Papers. Anne, Lady Bacon to Anthony Bacon, (16 June 1595).

MS.653 fol. 362: Anne Bacon, Papers. Anne, Lady Bacon to Anthony Bacon, (n.d).

Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

MS.88209869, Lady Elizabeth Dolben’s Cookery Book, c.1690.

Marston Hall Library, Walderton, West Sussex

Lady Anne Blencowe, The Receipt Book of Ann Blencowe, 1694 (Private collection).

Massachusetts Historical Society, Boston

Mss.011304, Adams Family Papers, Letter from Abigail Adams to John Adams, 8 - 10 September 1775.

Mss.080473, Adams Family Papers, Letter from Abigail Adams to John Adams, 29 March, 1797.

Ms.S-288, Moody Follonsbee’s Diary & Almanac (1765-1766).

Ms.N-684, Pemberton Family Recipe Book, (1798-1888).

P-106, Ms.N-942, Smith-Townsend family papers and papers II (1670-1892), MHS, P-106, 1 reel (microfilm); Ms. N-942, Smith Townsend Family Recipe Book.

P-207, Ms.N-527, Cotton Mather papers, Series IV; Miscellaneous numbered documents, 1636-1717, ‘Communications to members of the Royal Society’, 1713-1717.

P-363, reels 7.3-7.5, P-220, Ms.N-662, Ebenezer Parkman papers, Diary, (1756-1761).

National Library of Scotland, Edinburgh

W.3031, Lady Anne Elcho and Jane Wemyss’s Receipt Book, c. 1675-1699.

W.10231, Mary Fothergill, Her Booke Ano Domini 1692, & Dorothy Best receipt book, c. 1675-1699.

355

Northampton Record Office, Northampton

W/A misc.vol.32-33, 35. Lady Grace Mildmay, Medical Papers, v.32, ff.35r-35v, v.33, ff 40-41.

North Carolina State Archives, Raleigh, N.C.

Coll.1467. John Allen Papers, Rachel Stout Allen, Medical Memorandum, (c.1780s).

Plymouth Colony Archive Project, University of Illi nois, Urbana, Illinois

Alice Bradford’s Probate Inventory, 1670/1671

James and Dorothy Brown’s Probate Inventory, 1673/1674

Margaret Carpenter’s Probate Inventory, 1676

Allis and Israell Deane’s Probate Inventory, 1677.

Katheren Fallowell’s Probate Inventory, 1673.

Godbert and Zarah Godbertson’s Probate Inventory, 1633.

Margaret Howland’s Probate Inventory, 1683/1684.

Martha Knott’s Probate Inventory, 1673/1674.

Martha Nelson’s Probate Inventory, 1683/1684.

Mary Ring’s Probate Inventory, 1633.

Ester Woodfield’s Probate Inventory, 1672.

Private Collections

Rebeckah Winche, Receipt book of Rebeckah Winche, 1666; 1 v. and 1envelope. Notes: Dated 1666, but includes entries for events from 1654-1705. Scope and content: Collection of cookery and medical recipes and family history. Includes records of births, baptisms, marriages and baptisms in ’Chiswick Parish neere London’, 1654-1705. (Was included in the Ken Spelman manuscript collection, now in anonymous private collection).

Sterling Memorial Library Manuscripts and Archives, New Haven , Connecticut

MS.1072. John Davenport Papers.

356

South Carolina Historical Society, Charleston

Ms.1086.03.02, Harriott Pinckney Horry’s Receipt Book, 1770.

Ms.43/2178, Eliza Lucas Pinckney’s Household Book, 1756, (on deposit by the Colonial Dames of America). (TX715.P65x, Recipe book of Eliza Lucas Pinckney, 1756, on loan from the Dacus library, Winterthrop College, Rock Hill, SC).

Southern Historical Collection, University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill

Coll.02313-2, Archibald Maclaine,Commonplace Book (1775-1800).

Coll.00011.1, Alexander and Hillhouse Papers, Dorothea Christina Schmidt, Cookery and Medical Receipt Book (1772).

Coll.00426; 3.1.7.1, 3.1.7.3, Lenoir Family Papers, William Lenoir. Medical Memorandum, 1798-1839.

University of Pennsylvania Rare Books and Manuscrip ts Library, Philadelphia

MS.Codex 634 Anonymous Recipe Book (Maryland ref.).

MS.Codex 631 Bedingfield, Recipe Book (1730 & 1744).

MS.Codex 214 Catherine Cotton’s Recipe Book (1698).

Brett Hopestill’s Recipe Book (1638 & 1685).

MS.5034(1-4), Margaretta Prentis’ Cookery & Medical Recipes (Williamsburg: 1780s).

University of Tennessee Special Collections, Knoxvi lle, TSc

MS.1271, John Thompson’s diary, 1804-1805.

Wellcome Library Manuscript Collection

MS.1, Grace Acton’s Receipt Book, 1621.

MS.108, Jane Baber, A Booke of Receipts, c.1625.

357

MS.1026, Lady Ayscough’s Receipt Book, 1692.

MS.1071, Lady Barrett’s Receipt Book, c.1700.

MS.1127, Mary Bent’s Household Book, 1664-1729.

MS.1320/82, K.W., A Receipt Book, 1770 (‘A Book of phisick. Made June 1710’ written inside front cover).

MS.1321, Anonymous, A Book of receits', c.1675-c.1725.

MS.1322, Anonymous, A booke of divers receipts', c1660-c.1750.

MS.1325, Anonymous, A booke of usefull receipts for cookery, etc', c.1675-c.1700.

MS.143, Anonymous, A Booke of receipts both for Phisicke and Chirurgery, 1641.

MS.144/49, Anonymous, A Book of receipts, c.1650-1739.

MS.1511, Mrs Carr’s Receipt Book, 1682.

MS.1548, Mary Chantrell (& others), Receipt Book, 1690.

MS.1662, Mary Clerke’s Receipt Book, c1700.

MS.1791, Anonymous, Cookery-Books:17th century, late 17th century.

MS.1792, Anonymous, Cookery-Books: 17th cent., late 17th century.

MS.1793, Anonymous, Cookery-book: 17th-18th century, 1680-c.1725.

MS.1794, Anonymous, Cookery-book: 17th-18th century, c.1685-c.1725.



MS.1797, Anonymous, Cookery-books: 18th cent, c.1700-1735.

MS.1798, Anonymous , Cookery-books: 18th cent., c. 1700-c. 1735.

MS.1799, Anonymous , Cookery-books: 18th cent., c. 1700-1775.

MS.1800, Anonymous , Cookery-books: 18th cent., Early 18th century.

MS.182, Thomas Carter, (& others), Medical Receipts, 1621.

MS.184/6, Lady Frances Catchmay’s Receipts, 1629.

MS.212-53, Arthur Corbett’s personal papers – Receipts, middle 17th century.

358

MS.213/93, Mrs Corlyon’s Receipt Book, 1606.

MS.2323, Amy and Mary Eyton’s Receipts, 1691-1738.

MS.2330, Anonymous, Family receipts. , Late 17th century.

MS.244, Henry Dinely/ Dyneley (poss. Dingley/Dyngley) & others, Receipts, 1564-1633.

MS.2535, Elizabeth Godfrey, (& others), Receipt Book, 1686.

MS.2840, Mrs. Elizabeth Hirst, (& others), Household Book, 1684-c.1725.

MS.2990, Bridget Hyde’s Receipts, 1676-1690.

MS.3009/16, Elizabeth Jacob, (& others), physicall and chyrurgicall receipts. Cookery and preserves, 1590-c.1685. WL, 42, 60, 172, 202, & 207

MS.3082, Johnson Family, Household Book, 1694-1831.

MS.3107, Edward & Katherine Kidder’s Receipts, 1699.

MS.3229, Charles Leighton’s Household Book, c. 1685-c. 1725.

MS.3341, Lowther Family, Receipt Book, late 17th century.

MS.3500, Mrs Meade,. (& others), Receipt Book, 1688-1727.

MS.363, Martha Hodges, (& others), Receipt Book, c.1675-1725,

WLMS.2844Hughes, Sarah, Receipt Book, 1637.

MS.3712, Elizabeth Okeover (& others), Receipt Book, c. 1675-c. 1725.

MS.3724, Sir Thomas Osborne’s Accounts, 1631-1712, 1670-1695.

MS.373/68, Jane Jackson’s Receipt Book, 1642.

MS.3768, Bridget Parker’s Receipt Book, 1663.

MS.3769, Jane Parker’s Receipt Book, 1651.

MS.3834, Mary Perrott’s Recipes, 1695.

MS.4054/67, Anonymous, Receipt-Book, c.1690-1710.

MS.4683/62, Frances Springatt (& others), Recipes, 1686-1824.

MS.579, Mrs. Mary Miller’s Recipes, 1660,

MS.3547, George Noble’s Account Book, 1629.

MS.634, Anonymous, English Receipt-Book: 16th century, Late 16th century.

359

MS.635, Anonymous, Receipt-Book, 17th century.

MS.749, James Shrowl’s Household Book, c. 1625-c. 1750.

MS.751/ 23 & 24, Elizabeth Sleigh & Felicia Whitfeld’s Receipt Book, 1647-1722.

MS.774, Townsend Family Papers, (including ‘receipt book’), 1636-1647.

MSS.7997, 7998, 7999, Heppington Receipts, Vols.1-3.

MS.1340, Margaret Boyle’s Receipt book, also known as ‘the Boyle Family receipt books’ (1675-1710).

MS.MSL.2, Anonymous, Household and Medical Recipes, c.1650-c.1750.

Winterthur Library, Winterthur, DE

Doc.193, Hannah Huthwaite’s Recipe Book (c.1720).

Doc.1049, Elizabeth Coultas’s Recipe Book, (1749-1750).

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Beverley, Robert, The History of the First Settlement of Virginia, and the Government Thereof, to the Present Time. II. The Natural Productions and Conveniencies of the Country, Suited to Trade and Improvement. III. The Native Indians, Their Religion, Laws, and Customs, in War and Peace. IV. The Present State of the Country, as to the Polity of the Government, and the Improvements of the Land. By a Native and Inhabitant of the Place (London, 1705).

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Blount, Thomas, Glossographia or a Dictionary (London, 1656).

Boyle, Robert, A Free Enquiry into the Vulgarly Received Notion of Nature (London, 1686). Reprint: Editors Edward B.Davis, Michael Hunter (Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. 1996).

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Burrow, Edward, A new and compleat book of rates; comprehending the rates of merchandize as settled by the Acts of 12 CAR. II. Cap.4. II GEO. I. cap. 7. and subsequent Acts of Parliament; and, shewing The DUTIES AND DRAWBACKS Payable upon all Goods imported, exported, or carried coastwise; … (England: 1774).

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Cawdrey, Robert, A Table Alphabetical (London, 1604).

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Cotgrave, Randle, A Dictionary of the French and English Tongues, (London, 1611).

Cowell, John, The Interpreter: or Book Containing the Signification of Words (London, 1607).

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E., B., A New Dictionary of the Terms Ancient and Modern of the Canting Crew (London, 1699).

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361

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England and Wales, Commissioners of Customs, The rates of the marchandizes as they are set downe in the booke of rates for the custome and subsidie of poundage, and for the custome and subsidei of clothes the same being signed by the Kings Maiestie (London, 1604). `

England and Wales. Sovereign (1603-1625: James I), The rates of marchandizes as they are set downe in the Booke of rates for the custome and subsidie of poundage, and for the custome and subsidie of cloathes, the same being appointed by his Maiestie, and confirmed by the Lorde deputye and Councell, and ordered to be published in print, for the direction of such as it may concerne in this kingdome of Ireland, (Dublin, 1608).

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Frampton, John, Ioyfull newes out of the newe founde worlde, wherein is declared the rare and singular vertues of diuerse and sundrie hearbes, trees, oyles, plantes, and stones, with their applications, as well for phisicke as chirurgerie (London: 1577) – English translation of Monardes’ Dos Libros (Seville: 1565).

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French, John, The Art of Distillation. Or, A Treatise of the Choicest Spagyrical Preparations Performed by Way o£ Distillation, Being Partly Taken Out of the Most Select Chemical Authors of the Diverse Ianguages and Partly Out of the Author's Manual Experience together with, The Description of the Chiefest Furnaces and Vessels Used by Ancient and Modern Chemists also A Discourse on Diverse Spagyrical Experiments and Curiosities, and of the Anatomy of Gold and Silver, with The Chiefest Preparations and Curiosities Thereof, and Virtues of Them All. All Which Are Contained In Six Books Composed By John French, Dr. of Physick (London:1651).

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Grey, Elizabeth, Countess of Kent, A choice manual of rare and select secrets in physick and chyrurgery collected and practised by the Right Honorable, the Countesse of Kent, late deceased ; as also most exquisite ways of preserving, conserving, candying, &c. (London, 1653).

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Harvey, Gideon, The Family-Physician, and the House-Apothecary (London, 1676).

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Howard, Alathea, Natura exenterate; or Nature unbowelled by the most exquisite anatomizers of her (London, 1655).

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UNPUBLISHED PAPERS AND THESES

Allen, Gemma, ‘Women as Counsellors in Sixteenth-Century England: The Letters of Lady Anne Bacon and Lady Elizabeth Russell’ unpublished paper delivered at the Cultures of Correspondence conference, Plymouth, April 2011.

DiMeo, Michelle, ‘Medical Authority in Lady Katherine Ranelagh’s Restoration Letters’, delivered as the Cultures of Correspondence conference, Plymouth, April 2011.

Harris, Johanna, ’The Material Letter: Lady Brilliana Harley and the Literature of Advice‘, unpublished paper delivered at the Cultures of Correspondence conference, Plymouth, April 2011.

Mair, Katy, ‘Material lies: parental anxiety and epistolary practice in the correspondence of Anne Lady Bacon and Anthony Bacon’ unpublished paper delivered at the Cultures of Correspondence conference, Plymouth, April 2011.

Stine, Jennifer Kay, ’Opening Closets’: The Discovery of Household Medicine in Early Modern England (PhD Thesis, Stanford University, 1996).

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